


let me be your wings

by SuperBlondie



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Bottom Park Chanyeol, Breeding, Captivity, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Dragons, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Hand Feeding, Healing, Healthy Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kissing, Lack of Communication, Language Barrier, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mpreg, Nonverbal Communication, Past child abduction, Rape/Non-con Elements, Shapeshifting, Smut, Top Do Kyungsoo | D.O, Touch-Starved, War, but only implied and it never happens!, but the situation makes it strange, chanyeol consents, implied future forced breeding, never happens but it is implied that will happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:40:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27171892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperBlondie/pseuds/SuperBlondie
Summary: And that is why Chanyeol does not shout for help as the man examines him. He does not alert any guards or even make the smallest of sounds. He has heard humans discuss the difference between the evil they know and the evil they do not.
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Park Chanyeol, Lu Han/Wu Yi Fan | Kris
Comments: 39
Kudos: 216
Collections: EXO MONSTERFEST 2020





	let me be your wings

**Author's Note:**

> First off PLEASE READ THE TAGS! I try to be very conscious of possible triggers and tag them appropriately. And so I implore you to read them so you can make sure this fic is right for you. On that note, please let me know if I miss something or I did not tag it correctly. Some things are very hard to tag and I am only human, so I appreciate help in making sure I tag possible triggers.
> 
> Thank you, prompter, for prompting this fic! I hope you enjoy it! I loved writing about all the magic and the dragons and trying to create chemistry between two characters who couldn't talk!
> 
> Title is from Thumbelina...because that movie was part of my childhood and I loved Prince Cornelius. 
> 
> A big thank you to [Lolistar](https://twitter.com/522overdose>Poorvs</a>%20for%20reading%20over%20this%20fic%20when%20I%20was%20just%20starting%20on%20it%20and%20giving%20me%20confidence%20to%20continue.%20Thank%20you%20<a%20href=) for helping me workshop the biggest, most important scene in this entire fic. You helped me take it from something rushed and sloppy to a scene that does exactly what it is supposed to do as the Big Scene of the fic. Thank you [ Aarushi](https://twitter.com/Aarushi_c18) for being the best beta in the whole wide world.

Fire is what he was born into and it is where he will die, it is all he knows. Master made sure of that. Chanyeol never learned the name of the human who collared him, was instructed to call him _Master_ and faced severe punishment if he didn’t. Chanyeol faces severe punishment for any wrongdoing, accidental, imagined, or otherwise. 

He is made to run drills meant for his other form in his human body until he can no longer stand and falls unconscious. He is left alone in his cell in the dungeon for days, weeks, his food for the day delivered as he sleeps so that he has no company but his own head. Once, only once, he is chained to railroad tracks and Master watches as the locomotive comes closer and closer.

That only happened once because not even the collar that keeps him stuck in his human form could control his raw panic and he manifested enough strength to break the chain. He manifested claws as well, and spit out a bit of fire when Master came to subdue him.

Chanyeol hates Master, but Master is all he has.

There are times when Master treats him well. After Chanyeol has completed a mission or defeated one of Master’s opponent’s dragons in a fight, sometimes he will be allowed into the manor to sleep in a real bed, allowed to dine at the table with Master and his family. 

Chanyeol wishes he could fly instead. That is what he wants as a reward, to be given an hour or two to fly as he wishes, without orders to burn villages to ash or rip out the throats of other members of his kind. Chanyeol just wants to be free of his collar and fly up high into the sky, soar along the edges of the sun.

A war dragon owned by one of Master’s friends, Luhan, told him of a place where dragons fly free. It is supposedly hidden far, far beyond the clouds where no human can ever reach and there is no destruction, no chaos, no war. 

There are no war dragons; Chanyeol would simply _be_. 

And he would _fly,_ he would fly and have friends and find a mate to live out his days with.

But Master said Luhan was crazy, that he had lost touch with reality and had to be put down for his continual disobedience. A war dragon that will not listen is a war dragon not long for this world.

Chanyeol thinks that Luhan is still alive though. He swears he saw silver scales pass outside his cell door the night before Luhan’s supposed execution, a silver collar shattered on the stone floor of the dungeon. He likes to think that Luhan escaped.

“What are you smiling for, dragon,” Master asks. He doesn’t care for an answer, he never does. Master asks because he likes to hear himself speak. Chanyeol still shrugs because it’s the most interaction he’s going to get today. Master said this morning that he had a very special mission for Chanyeol. Chanyeol _despises_ special missions—they’re the ones that end with blood under his claws and running down his chin.

His gold collar sits heavy on his throat, restrictive, a barrier that won’t allow his magic to do much more than accelerate his healing without Master’s command. It’s a horrible sort of magic that the humans have made. It’s nothing like Chanyeol’s magic, rooted deep in his soul, a gift from nature, comforting, warm. 

This magic tastes like metal and smells like ash and Chanyeol wishes nearly every day that he’d flown a bit faster as a child.

The carriage ride is bumpy. Chanyeol has never cared for carriages or horses, prefering to walk on his own or, on the few occasions that he’s allowed, fly. Master says that carriages are for noblemen like himself, that only those who do not know how to control their war dragons allow them to fly outside of battle. And so, Chanyeol sits beside Master in the carriage and watches the countryside go by with a strange sense of detachment. He used to be so eager for these trips when he was younger. All he wanted to do then was watch the world through the carriage window.

He’ll never get to see it as he wishes, never be allowed to touch the trees or stand knee-deep in the river just to feel the cold water, so what’s the point?

Master clears his throat. Chanyeol turns to him, gaze focused carefully on his chin. It feels a bit ridiculous to look so far down, particularly when Master is at least a head or two shorter than him, but there is little Master hates more than Chanyeol looking him in the eye like they’re of equal standing. 

Like Chanyeol is a _person_ and not just a weapon.

Master wears ostentatious clothing, fur coats, leather shoes, dark purple silk robes like a king. He wears them because of Chanyeol, bought with money that he earns through Chanyeol’s destruction. Chanyeol has worn the same shirt for three winters, the same pants for two, both threadbare and ripping at the seams. He can’t remember the last time he wore shoes. Chanyeol eats leftovers, scraps of Master’s feasts while he sits in his cell in the dungeon and huddles against the dark, damp cold.

Not even the other human prisoners in the dungeon live as he does, but they are humans—they are _people_ , and so deserve rights that Chanyeol does not. 

Somewhere, some human decided that the ability to shift, the dark red scales that appear along Chanyeol’s skin in patches, make him lesser. He is an animal, a weapon.

“I’m sure you’ve heard that I have been wanting a few more war dragons. The oldest generation is quickly approaching obsolescence and we need to get started on creating the next. You’re a carrier, as I’m sure you’re well aware, and so Lord Beckham and I have decided that you would do well as a carrier for his strongest dragon’s offspring.”

He is a carrier, capable of laying clutches of eggs as a dragon and birthing an infant as a human. And that means that he is even lesser than the other war dragons in the human’s eyes.

Chanyeol has to force himself not to vomit. He had resigned himself to this life, to dying in a blaze of fire with this damned collar still around his neck. But to think of his _children_ doing the same, of being snatched up and collared before they have even taken their first steps. 

Master continues on, either oblivious or uncaring of the way Chanyeol has gone pale and started to shake, “You two will meet tonight in the courtyard of Lord Beckham’s castle and Lord Beckham will allow you both to shift. You will mate in your other forms, of course. Pregnancy takes much too long and you’d only have one, maybe two offspring. Eggs are a much more viable option.”

They’d be taken from him before he even got to meet them. Humans would come and take his eggs to be incubated in their castles and his children would live their entire lives unloved, likely in some dank dungeon cell once they’re old enough to not need constant care and supervision.

He feels sick. He feels like bursting into tears and throwing himself from the carriage, running off into the countryside and praying that he finds some safe haven. 

Master would only chase after him and beat him for his disobedience, brand him as a runaway so that no one would ever dare help him on any future escape attempts. He’d probably tie him down for the mating and keep him there until he’s laid his eggs and they’ve all been stolen one by one.

Chanyeol says nothing, does nothing. He leans his head against the side of the carriage and lets himself be jostled. He can blame the pain of his head hitting the side of the carriage for any tears then.

“Lord Beckham says you’ll be very well taken care of during our stay at his castle. He’s even had his servants make up a room for you to sleep in with blankets and pillows for you to make a nest,” Master laughs as though any sort of basic kindness towards Chanyeol and his kind is a joke. 

They travel in silence for an hour more, maybe two. Chanyeol keeps his mouth shut and tries to do away with the little shreds of hope he always held onto so tightly. He always hoped Master would be kind enough to allow him to choose a mate, to let him raise his little ones until they were old enough to fight.

He told Luhan about his dream once, how he wanted to care for his children, kiss their skinned knees and rock them to sleep. He has asked if Luhan would accept him as a mate should the moment ever arise.

Luhan had agreed, had called him pretty. But he had also laughed in his face and called him idiotic for thinking he would ever have the chance to even hold his babies.

Still, Chanyeol had hoped, and now those hopes are coming crashing down around his feet.

Master eats his lunch in the carriage, offering Chanyeol a bite or two of the things he was the least fond of. He talks while he eats, and Chanyeol hears his mother’s words in his ears about disgusting habits and proper manners. “If I weren’t coming along, I believe he would spoil you rotten! Isn’t this ridiculous, Chanyeol? Spoiling a war dragon like a pet? Oh, look, there it is, Lord Beckham’s castle!”

Chanyeol looks over the horizon and sees a massive building of stone and iron, with towers that reach for the sky and blood red banners streaming in the wind. It’s a castle nearly large enough to rival the palaces Chanyeol had been sent to destroy. It, like most human buildings Chanyeol sees, looks so oddly dead. He doesn’t know how to explain that bone-deep knowledge, but the castle is dead, no life held within a thatched roof or wooden walls.

To most, the castle is decidedly impressive. Chanyeol cannot muster up enough energy to do more than blink in its direction as Master continues to ramble on about Lord Beckham and his wealth and his property and his _power._

All any human wants is power. If they do not have it themselves, they take it wherever they can. They take it from Chanyeol’s people, from each other, stealing, hoarding like they say Chanyeol’s people do.

Chanyeol remembers very little from his childhood before he was caught and collared, but he remembers that the _hoard_ the humans mock was never a hoard, never mountains upon mountains of treasure. It was a collection of the most precious things, gifts, a child’s lock of hair, their first lost tooth, a particularly beautiful rock found in a creek bed and given to a loved one. 

Chanyeol had a very small hoard before he was taken, his very favorite blanket and a flower his father brought down for him from the very top of an apple tree.

He wonders if his family kept his hoard for him, just in case he ever came back, and then forces the thought from his mind before it brings him to tears.

“I have heard that Lord Beckham’s war dragon is quite handsome in his normal form,” Master says around a rather large bite, “Well, for a dragon, at least. And he is an impressive beast, likely won’t be too hard for him to mount you!” Master laughs and laughs and Chanyeol has to bite his tongue until he tastes blood to keep himself from vomiting.

When they arrive at Lord Beckham’s castle, Master steps out from the carriage first, fussing over his clothing so that he looks just so before stepping out into the late afternoon sunlight. “Be on your best behavior, Chanyeol,” he warns as he fixes his outermost jacket. “I need to make sure you are well-fed while you’re breeding, but I will take note of any misbehaviors for when we return home.”

Chanyeol nods and stands, head bowed and shoulders slumped so as to not appear intimidating. He is _never_ to appear intimidating outside of battle.

Master steps out from the carriage in a flurry of fabric and arrogance, only to be met with guards. He huffs when he sees that it is not Lord Beckham who has come to receive them but one of his head servants. He is very polite and gracious as the servant welcomes them beyond the castle walls. He inclines his head at all the right moments, bows when passing one of the leaders of the Royal Military who had stopped by to visit Lord Beckham as they enter the castle.

Chanyeol keeps his mouth shut and follows after Master, swallowing nervously at the anger radiating off him. Master always has to be the most important man, always deferred to and treated with utmost respect.

Lord Beckham slighted him in sending a servant to welcome them. The military men deepen the wound by refusing to bow and carrying on their own conversations as though Master is little more than a common man passing by them. The tension in his shoulders grows with each step they take through garishly opulent corridors and Chanyeol knows very well that it is only a matter of time until he explodes, likely at his collared, powerless war dragon.

Chanyeol has never been so relieved as he is when the head servant leads them to the main sitting room, only for another servant to approach and offer to take Chanyeol to his room to wait for nightfall.

“My lord believes that war dragons have no place in discussions of business,” the servant explains after a customary bow. “If they hear their masters talk of law and business, they may use whatever information they hear to attempt an uprising. It happened to Lord Chen in the south, his war dragon broke free and abducted him in the middle of the night. No one has heard from him since. My lord would like to prevent another such tragedy.”

Master hums. His nose scrunches up in distaste. Master does not care for him, but he likes to have Chanyeol at his side when meeting other nobility. Chanyeol is a symbol of status, and there is little more Master loves than status.

Still, Master cannot refute the wishes of the master of the castle, so he sends Chanyeol off with a wave of his hand and an order to stay out of trouble.

Chanyeol lets himself be led up to a room in the western tower. It is a room bare aside from the mattress on the ground, covered by a mountain of blankets and pillows. There is only one window, so high up on the wall that Chanyeol would have to stand up on his toes to be able to peer out, much too small for him to fit more than his head through. It is a cell, much more comfortable than the one waiting in Master’s dungeon, but a cell all the same. Chanyeol sighs through his nose as the servant escorts him in, already feeling trapped.

“This is where you will spend your time during your stay in my lord’s castle. You are only to leave for breeding, which will take place after dinner each night until new war dragons have been conceived. A servant will fetch you after dinner tonight and take you to the courtyard for breeding, they will explain the breeding procedure and the rules you must abide by.” The servant gestures to the mound of blankets on the mattress. She looks angry, almost jealous, and Chanyeol slumps in on himself out of habit. “You are free to use those blankets to create your _nest.”_

He does not flinch at the way the servant spits out the word, mocking one of things his people treasure most, but only just. 

Nests are precious, meant for mated couples to share with their children until they grow too large and require their own bed. Many parents make their nests absurdly large just so that their children can stay for longer. Chanyeol’s did. His mother knew when he was young that he was going to be tall and expanded the nest she shared with his father so that he would not have to leave.

This nest will never see a child, will only hold a clutch of eggs for a few hours, days, a week at the most. Chanyeol will sleep in it alone until he is due to return to Master’s manor. His chest aches, hollowed out and heavy with sadness.

He swallows and wipes at his eyes as the door to the room slams shut. Chanyeol settles on his knees on the mattress. He runs his fingertips along the fabric of the blankets and pillows surrounding him. 

He curls onto his side in the middle of the sad excuse for a nest. And he tries to sleep.

* * *

Chanyeol stands in the courtyard under the clear sky. He stares up at the stars high above him as they peek out between the clouds covering the sky feels the breeze as it blows through the thin fabric of his clothing. He is a bit surprised he still has his clothing, considering the reason he was led out to the courtyard after dinner. He had truthfully expected to be stripped naked of all but his collar and then strapped down to some sort of horrid contraption, probably smelling of the same metallic magic as his collar.

Instead, he was led out to the courtyard by a different servant than the one who took him to his room earlier that day and left with only the order to stay put until Lord Beckham and his war dragon came. 

Lord Beckham, a self-titled expert on all things dragon, particularly reproduction and breeding, apparently believes that less distressed the carrier is during conception and gestation, the healthier, _stronger,_ the spawn.

Chanyeol is not complaining about the freedom. Though he despises the wording the servant used— _spawn,_ as though any child Chanyeol births would be little more than a tadpole. Chanyeol’s offspring will be children, _babies._ And they will be _loved,_ even if they are never aware of it.

The sky is beautiful tonight, so full of clouds he can hardly see the moon, but it’s calm. There is so little wind that it would be easy to take flight and soar. Chanyeol sighs softly at the moon that quickly disappears behind a thick bunch of clouds and smiles even as his chest aches. It would be so easy to fly tonight, if only he could.

He yearns for the sky, the feel of the wind against his scales, the fire burning in his chest, ready to rage out of him at a moment’s notice. He yearns for freedom and happiness.

He yearns for tiny little feet and a nest built large and comfortable for himself and his family.

Sadness is a yawning chasm inside him, splitting wider and wider as he reminds himself of all the things he will never have. It sits within him almost as if it were another skin, something he has always had. From the moment he was able to understand what it meant to be captive, that sadness has been his constant, unwavering companion. His only companion to have never left.

Chanyeol kicks at the neatly cut grass beneath his feet and waits for Lord Beckham and the dragon he is meant to be bred by. At least he will be able to shift into his other form for the breeding; he has always been able to hide from his feelings with all that extra space and he will need the distance to force himself through this with his sanity intact.

The grass across the courtyard rustles with the sound of heavy footsteps. Chanyeol looks away from the sky and blinks in confusion, eyebrows furrowing together. 

A man stands before him, short but compact, built with a thick sort of muscle that speaks of being well-fed, never starved. Chanyeol has muscle as well, but his are lean and his ribs can be counted when he breathes out. The man is handsome, dark hair cropped close to his skull, a pair of large, dark eyes and full lips. 

There are worse dragons to be bred by, of that Chanyeol is sure.

Chanyeol waits for Lord Beckham to appear and explain any further rules. He waits for his collar to be loosened enough to allow him to shift. But no man ever comes. It is only Chanyeol and the man who stares at him with greedy eyes. These eyes flash reptilian, gold, when Chanyeol swallows nervously, uncomfortable with the scrutiny.

Neither of them have any right to scrutinize the other. There is no choice in this, not for them, they will do as their masters bid or face the consequences. But the man doesn’t seem aware, not when he looks Chanyeol over, looks him up and down like someone desirable.

He is like no war dragon Chanyeol has ever seen. There is unwavering confidence in the way he strides across the grass, shoulders set and chin up. He steps into Chanyeol’s space, nose to curve of his neck, and sniffs delicately, as though he were one of the cats that live in Master’s barn. The moon appears for only a moment, a flash of a second, but it is enough to show Chanyeol the smattering of dark scales growing along the man’s cheekbones and under his eyes. His fingers are tipped with the beginning of claws and Chanyeol is sure that if he were allowed to look, he would see razor sharp teeth pushing through the man’s gums.

He is _shifting._

Chanyeol looks down, past the man’s chin, and sees no collar. The man across from him is a dragon, is shifting, and he wears no collar. He is _free._

Chanyeol steps back out of pure shock. The man frowns, expression slipping into a scowl. 

He wants Chanyeol, that much is obvious. He _wants_ Chanyeol. This wild dragon just happened to stumble across another of their kind, a _carrier,_ of course he wants to take that carrier for his own. 

Chanyeol flinches when the man grabs him by the wrists, but does not pull away. He lets the man sniff at his pulse, listens at the growl rumbling low in his chest. His hands trail up Chanyeol’s arms and down his sides until they settle at his hips, the points of his nails poking through the waistband of Chanyeol’s pants. The man smiles, just a small, barely noticeable upturning of his lips.

He wants to take Chanyeol for his own, take him far, far away from the castle and the humans with their metallic, unnatural magic. Chanyeol does not know where this man would take him, but it would likely be somewhere even farther away than where the man currently lives.

The man would want to keep any children they have safe from humans.

And that is why Chanyeol does not shout for help as the man examines him. He does not alert any guards or even make the smallest of sounds. He has heard humans discuss the difference between the evil they know and the evil they do not.

Chanyeol knows the evil waiting for him here, being bred and then watching as humans take his children, still growing in their eggs, as many times as Master and Lord Beckham wish. Master would likely breed him to other dragons depending on how strong his children are, not that he would ever get to see a single one of them even hatch from their eggs. 

His life would stay the same, going from prison to prison, only flying when allowed, when _ordered._ If Chanyeol yells, his life will be just as it has always been since he was caught.

Chanyeol may not know the man standing before him aside from the strength in the grip on his hips and the want in the man’s eyes. But he knows that if he goes, any children that come from their union will be _his._ He will carry them, birth them, raise them, _love_ them.

His children will never know the feeling of a collar around their neck and they will grow with more freedom than Chanyeol has ever had.

A noise sounds from far away. There are voices coming, loud and boisterous the way the sort of humans that live in these castles tend to be. They have only seconds before the humans are upon them, and Chanyeol cannot foresee a single person, dragon or human, surviving the encounter.

“We need to go,” he says, voice quiet as a whisper. “There are humans coming for me. We must go now.”

The man nods with a grunt. His eyes burn golden as he wraps his arms around Chanyeol’s waist, stronger than any iron or steel humans can smelt. It puts them in a strange position with Chanyeol’s chin resting atop his head, but the man doesn’t seem to care for the discomfort. 

Instead, two scaly black wings emerge from between his shoulders, larger than Chanyeol. They arch up from the man’s back, terrifying in the most beautiful way.

Chanyeol is so captivated by them that he doesn’t notice the man is bracing himself to jump until his wings come down, flapping with so much force that the two of them are launched up into the sky instantaneously. Chanyeol claps a hand over his mouth to muffle his startled scream of joy; they have already disappeared into the clouds, up so high and so well hidden that the humans in the castle on the ground will never find them.

Chanyeol is flying. He clings to the man who is still in the process of shifting completely into his other form and watches the clouds, watches the stars that do not seem quite so high above him now. 

He is flying, and he is _free._

* * *

Chanyeol sits in the middle of the nest made of leaves and pelts and watches the strange man who took him from the castle go about cooking dinner over the firepit at the front of the cave. He says nothing, hasn’t said a single word since he carried Chanyeol here in careful claws. Here, to this cave carved into the eastern face of a mountain miles and miles away from even the most remote human settlements. 

Chanyeol isn’t quite sure if he even _can_ speak. Many of the more primal, bestial dragons do not learn human language, preferring to use their ancient methods of communication. If only Chanyeol could remember what that method was and how to use it—he knows he knows it, remembers it distantly, just out of reach. 

“My name is Chanyeol.” The man looks up from the fire and nods, a curious smile on his face. Chanyeol may not be able to talk _to_ him, but he can talk _at_ him.

The man had led him into the cave after shifting back to his human form and all but herded Chanyeol into the nest, humming low and satisfied in his throat as Chanyeol settled. It is soft against Chanyeol’s skin when he lies down. He runs his fingers through the deer fur under his cheek and sniffs at the pelt. It smells like the man, not that dragons are known for their exceptional sense of smell. Still, it smells like the stranger at the other end of the cave and that calms him for some reason. 

When Chanyeol rubs his cheek against the deer pelt, it feels like a real, true nest.

He looks up at the sound of deep laughter and blinks when he sees the man watching him with those dark eyes and that smile. 

“S-sorry,” Chanyeol stammers, “I did not mean to overstep.”

The man shakes his head and gestures for Chanyeol to continue, moving so that his back is towards the cave. His body blocks out most of the light from the fire and leaves Chanyeol shrouded in darkness. 

It makes his eyelids heavy, yawning softly as he shifts into a more comfortable position. He slept for quite a long while earlier in the day, but it had been a fitful sleep. He napped in fits and bursts but never felt truly rested, dreams dark and muddled, wakeful moments confused and filled with despair and anxiety. The mattress provided had been of a higher quality than this nest made of furs and leaves—Chanyeol finds where he lays now to be much more comfortable though.

He drifts quietly, listening to the fire crackle and the man shuffle around the entrance to the cave. The night drags on in companionable silence. 

Chanyeol wonders if he should be nervous, if his skin should crawl the same as it did when Master explained his plan to breed Chanyeol with other dragons and steal his eggs. Chanyeol isn’t sure if he should be nervous about the man at the front of the cave, but he isn’t.

“I’ll get to keep our children, won’t I,” he sits up and asks. “They won’t be taken from me?”

The man turns around to stare at him as though he’s grown a second head and begun speaking in tongues. He nods, a slow raising and lowering of his chin. Something like concern lights his eyes.

Chanyeol lies back down, perfectly satisfied. He is not nervous. He has no reason to be nervous. 

This, the relative freedom to move about the cave and the knowledge that any children he bears will be his to raise, is more than he has ever had. The man, strange as he is, seems to be a kind, decent person. 

A grunt comes from the front of the cave, loud in the silence. Chanyeol pushes up onto his elbows and meets the man’s eyes. The man beckons him towards the fire with another grunt and a nod. He takes his time stepping out of the nest, meandering through the cave, feeling the cold stone against his bare feet. The man doesn’t seem to care; he watches Chanyeol walk with one eyebrow raised and holds a bit of cooked rabbit meat between his fingers. 

Chanyeol kneels in front of him, sitting back on his heels. The rabbit sits on a flat stone between them. Chanyeol has already eaten dinner, the soup and bread one of Lord Beckham’s servants brought to him, but the smell of cooked meat makes his mouth water and stomach growl.

The man snorts and smirks.

He looks to the man’s face and then back down to the rabbit. He makes to tear a bit off only to have his hand batted away. He startles at the touch, startles again when the man holds the meat in his hand to his lips. There is something wild in his eyes, dark and dangerous. He frowns when Chanyeol shakes his head and leans back. The man grabs him by the wrist, fingertips meeting on the other side.

He holds out the meat more insistently. The hold on Chanyeol’s wrist keeps him from moving back. His only choice is to open his mouth and take the bite offered, ears heating in embarrassment. It tastes good, at least—the first freshly cooked meal he has had in years.

The man feeds himself a bite as Chanyeol chews; another bit of meat is held to his lips the moment he swallows. Chanyeol does not fight this time, simply opens his mouth and allows himself to be hand fed bite after bite no matter how intensely he can feel himself blush. The man watches him eat with utter satisfaction.

Chanyeol curls his hands into fists on top of his thighs, fidgeting, unsure of what to do. It is strange to sit and be fed like a baby bird or a particularly rich, particularly lazy human lord. 

A part of him enjoys it simply because he has never been paid this sort of attention, but it is still so very uncomfortable.

His belly fills quickly and he leans away from the next bite the man tries to feed him. “I-I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can eat anymore. I’m full.” Chanyeol blinks in surprise as the words leave his mouth. He does not remember ever being full before, even when Master was pleased with his performance during a mission, he was careful to never Chanyeol too much. He said that hunger kept the mind sharp, the senses alert.

Chanyeol cannot help but wonder if Master was correct, because he feels soft now, heavy, sleepy, _vulnerable._

He realizes that he _is_ vulnerable. He cannot shift, cannot defend himself against anyone who can, certainly not against a man who shifts at will, with such precise control that he can shift his left thumbnail into a claw and leave the rest of his fingers as they are. He is at the man’s mercy, wholly, completely, helplessly depending on a stranger for his every need.

It isn’t as horrible a feeling as he would have expected. Chanyeol finds comfort in being able to keep and raise any children they have together, how quiet and gentle this man seems to be. The smell of magic is all over him, natural and clean and Chanyeol simply knows that whatever this man may be, he is not a threat.

The man had nodded once when Chanyeol begged off any further meat and focused solely on his own hunger. Chanyeol kneels and watches him devour what is left of the rabbit, unsure of where to go or what to do. He shifts off of his knees and onto his bottom with his legs crossed in front of him, deciding to sit and wait for some sort of direction as to what the man wants to do next.

“W-would you--what’s your name? I mean, I know you don’t speak. Well, I assume you don’t speak because you haven’t, but of course I could be wrong and you could speak but consider yourself a man of few words,” Chanyeol rambles instead, heart racing in his chest, palms sweaty against the thin fabric of his pants. “It’s just that I have only been calling you ‘the man’ in my head and it doesn’t seem very fair that you know my name but I don’t know yours. I-I’m sorry, that was rude! I offered my name of my own free will. I just...I just…”

Chanyeol bites his tongue and bows his head, gaze focused on the dirty stone floor. His cheeks feel as though they’re on fire, ears burning right along with them. He is a war dragon— _was_ a war dragon; he has never been trained in the art of conversation, expected to do as he was told and keep his mouth shut as he did it.

He wouldn’t be surprised if the man is considering throwing him out of the cave now. Chanyeol knows his ramblings are irritating at the best of times, infuriating at the worst.

Luhan told him so, said that if he was not forced to stay in the cell beside Chanyeol when his master visited Chanyeol’s, he would flee the second he started one of his long, winding talks. Master said to only speak when spoken to, that any word spoken out of turn without being absolutely necessary was akin to claws on stone and worthy of punishment.

The man just chuckles. He cups Chanyeol’s jaw with one hand, juices from the rabbit meat slick against Chanyeol’s skin, and gently forces him to raise his head and look him in the eye. He doesn’t appear even a bit annoyed, exasperated perhaps, but nothing more. 

He pulls his hand back from Chanyeol’s face and holds up one finger. He sticks that finger in the thick black ash at the bottom of the firepit, coating it in the stuff before putting his finger to stone like a pencil or pen to paper. 

Chanyeol would not call himself literate, but he knows his letters well enough to recognize what the man writes on the patch of stone floor between them. “Soo,” he sounds out aloud, “Your name is Soo?”

Soo gives an odd nod of his head, as though Chanyeol is not entirely correct but more than close enough. 

Chanyeol stares at Soo and feels an insurmountable gap between them, stuck speaking in body language and half-spoken conversations. 

Soo reaches out. He rubs a thumb over Chanyeol’s cheekbone and pushes his hair up off his forehead. Chanyeol forces himself still as Soo stares. He stares for a long while, until Chanyeol’s hair falls back through his fingers. “Hm,” Soo hums part of a song and waits until Chanyeol begins to squirm to pull his hand back and finish the last bits of his meal.

“I-I am going to go to sleep, if that’s alright with you. I’m very tired, it was a long day of travel to reach Lord Beckham’s castle.” Soo stares blankly. Chanyeol makes an awkward smile, “Where you found me, that was Lord Beckham’s castle. My master brought me there to...to breed.”

Soo’s nostrils flare, jaw visibly tightening as his brow sets into a scowl. He growls, his eyes flash gold, and Chanyeol leans forward onto his palms and puts himself into the other man’s space, perhaps a finger’s length of air between their faces. “I am glad you found me. You—I would much prefer it to be you.” 

He startles when a hand settles over the nape of his neck. Soo pulls him close until their foreheads are pressed together. Chanyeol attempts to pull away on reflex, but Soo holds him still, making some sort of deep, dark rumbling sound low in his throat. 

His hand is warm against Chanyeol’s skin, if a bit sweaty. Two of his fingers fit underneath the collar and pet at the skin there too.

Chanyeol can feel his anger as though it were a cloud hanging overheard, a storm rolling in over the horizon. He likes to think of it as indignant, righteous, that Soo is furious to hear of the sort of treatment war dragons endure at humans’ hands. War dragons rarely escape; their life in captivity, from what Chanyeol remembers hearing as a child, was something only known as _horrid,_ a nightmare that no one really knew anything about.

As someone who lived seventeen of his roughly twenty-three years as a war dragon, Chanyeol can say that it is so much worse than anything his people could have imagined.

When Soo lets him go, Chanyeol pulls back and stands. The silence is tense; Chanyeol feels it in his stomach. At least Soo does not look upon him with pity—anger is something Chanyeol knows well, compassion is unknown and a bit scary.

“I am going to bed. Goodnight,” Chanyeol bows his head and shuffles back to the nest, curling up underneath a bear pelt. 

He stares over the edge of the nest at the shadows cast by the fire as they dance along the cave wall. Soo is watching him. His shadow has not moved in the slightest since Chanyeol laid down and he can feel dark eyes on him. Crickets chirp in the night, owls calling as they hunt mice along the forest floor. Nature surrounds him in peace and quiet, the only bit of fire safely contained in a pit. Chanyeol’s mind is forced into a blissful silence. His eyelids grow heavier and heavier.

Chanyeol grumbles, blinking into near complete darkness. A warm weight settles over his waist, presses against his back. “Wha-?”

“Shh,” whispers a voice in his ear. “Shh.”

Chanyeol grumbles again and falls back asleep to soft, quiet laughter.

* * *

It isn’t until the next night that Soo begins to show an interest in him. Chanyeol had been watching and waiting for the man to make some sort of move and urge him to breed. Truthfully, he is surprised that he hadn’t been bred the night before, but he supposes that Soo wanted to give him a night to settle in. 

Chanyeol is sitting on the ledge at the front of the cave, staring up at the moon. There are no clouds in sight, just the moon and the stars shining down, bright and clear. He’s spent most of the day in this spot; stretching in the morning, napping in the afternoon, and now he sits and kicks his feet over the edge of the cliff. Up so high in the mountains, the wind is cold and fierce, but the fire roaring in the firepit is hot at his back.

He looks over at the sound of footsteps to see Soo approaching from where he’d been organizing supplies at the back of the cave. Soo sits beside him, so close their thighs touch. Soo radiates heat like a furnace.

Chanyeol wonders what sort of fire he breathes—red, orange, yellow, white, maybe even _blue._

“Hi, it’s really beautiful out tonight,” Chanyeol attempts a small smile. Soo nods in return. 

His belly is stuffed, perhaps too full from eating three square meals in one day. Soo fed him each one by hand, the bits he could, at least. Soo gave him a bowl of soup to go with the salted venison he’d pulled out of a barrel and Chanyeol couldn’t handle letting the other man spoon feed him. Feeding by hand is intimate, uncomfortably intimate for a man he’s only known for a day, but feeding with a spoon makes him feel as though Soo thinks he’s incompetent.

Soo leans over and presses his lips to Chanyeol’s cheek, one warm palm landing on his thigh. Chanyeol stiffens. 

Soo moves the hand on his thigh up to his jaw to turn his face for a kiss. Soo’s lips are soft and full, hot as they move against his own. Soo has done this before. He’s kissed and been kissed, held and been held. Soo kisses Chanyeol with experience and bravery and passion, using his hold on Chanyeol's jaw to tilt his head and attempt to kiss him deeper.

Chanyeol simply sits still and lets him, unsure of what else to do. His heart beats fast in his chest, eyes wide open. 

When Chanyeol doesn’t respond or reciprocate, Soo pulls back. His brows are furrowed in confusion, eyes searching as he looks over Chanyeol’s face. 

“I-I don’t. I’ve never. Sex— _breeding_ a-and kissing, I’ve never.” Chanyeol reaches up and touches his tingling lips. Soo’s mouth drops open, expression blanking into one of shock and horror. Chanyeol shakes his head when Soo goes to pull away completely. He catches Soo’s hands by the wrists and holds them, staring into large, dark eyes. “No, no, I liked it! I have never been kissed before, but I liked it. It felt...good.”

His lips are still tingling and his stomach feels as though it’s filled with butterflies fluttering wildly. It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before, and he likes it. It is scary, terrifying. He wants it again.

If he had stayed at Lord Beckham’s castle and been bred by the human’s war dragon, he would have slept alone in that human-made nest in that little room, never to be shared with a partner or his babies. He would not have been given even a bit of affection or touch that wasn’t strictly related to breeding, and he most certainly wouldn’t have been kissed.

He hadn’t ever really given thought to having someone that _wanted_ him, wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to hold him close and keep him like something precious. He finds that he enjoys it. He finds that he enjoys being wanted very much.

“Would you do it again,” Chanyeol asks. “You don’t have to, of course, but would you?”

Soo watches him with narrowed, wary eyes, expression something curious and hesitant. Slowly, he nods. Chanyeol smiles and waits with bated breath. 

But Soo does not kiss him again. Instead, the man gently pulls his wrists free of Chanyeol’s grip and turns his gaze back out towards the open air and the moon. He stays close, using one of his freed hands to hold one of Chanyeol’s own, which feels nice but doesn’t sate the pit that has yawned open under his skin, hungry for more and more touch, more and more affection.

He resigns himself to that anxious, greedy, needy feeling—for now. Soo held him while they slept last night, it stands to reason that he’ll do it again.

Chanyeol kicks his feet over the edge of the cliff, a gentle, swaying motion. He isn’t scared of the height, of falling. He should be. Chanyeol cannot fly now, the collar around his neck holding him in this soft, tiny, fragile body. If he fell from this height he would be dead before he was even part way down the mountain. But Soo can fly and Soo would not let him fall to his death; he seems too decent of a man. Soo is capable of shifting forms at will and Chanyeol longs for the sky.

Soo breathes out softly through his nose and squeezes Chanyeol’s hand. He uses his other hand to gently pull Chanyeol’s head down to rest on his shoulder. Chanyeol heaves out a sigh and leans against him, so desperate to be touched.

As the night wears on, Chanyeol begins to tire. He slumps fully into Soo’s side and yawns. Soo chuckles and cards his fingers through the hair at the back of Chanyeol’s head.

Chanyeol wakes to the sensation of being lifted. He is carried, laid down into the nest, and then wrapped up and held. He curls into the warmth, tucking his face into the base of Soo’s neck. “Good night, Soo.”

Soo hums in return, tightening his arms around him.

* * *

Chanyeol is confused when, five days after his abduction from Lord Beckham’s castle, he has still not been bred. Soo kissed him once more after the second night, though it was just a quick, gentle passing of his lips over Chanyeol’s before they both took a late afternoon nap the day before, but nothing more. 

That isn’t _entirely_ true. Chanyeol has been seeking out touch and affection as though he was starving for it, and Soo has been giving it to him readily, petting his hair, rubbing his back, rubbing his thumb over Chanyeol’s lower lip after feeding him a bite of food. Soo touches him a great deal. But it is never to breed, never more sexual than an accidental slip of the hand while they sleep at night, waking in the morning to Soo groping his ass.

And it is never enough. 

Chanyeol feels much like a well bucket with a hole in the bottom. Soo touches him, cuddles him, scratches that horribly itchy spot between his shoulder blades, but nothing seems to fill that aching void beneath his skin that begs for just a little more attention. 

Soo does not seem to mind Chanyeol’s constant bids for affection, at least. He has yet to show even a hint of irritation or annoyance. Chanyeol is a bit surprised, because he is acutely aware of how often he seeks the other man out and is not sure how long he would put up with his own ridiculousness.

Perhaps Soo just likes having him here; he seems happy to be of service most times, sighing in what Chanyeol hopes is fondness and offering the slightest of smiles as he reaches out a hand to beckon him closer. Even now, as he scratches Chanyeol’s scalp with Chanyeol’s head resting on his thigh, he is humming a soft melody and staring out at the clear blue sky.

“Soo,” Chanyeol picks at one of the many loose threads on his pants. 

Soo gave him a new shirt two days ago after it became apparent just how threadbare and worn his own clothing was. His shirt is a bit short, a bit loose, rising up past Chanyeol’s navel when he raises his arms and made to cover Soo’s short, muscular frame instead of Chanyeol’s lanky body, but more than acceptable in comparison. None of Soo’s pants had a hope of fitting him though, legs much too long and ass much too small.

“Soo, c-could we go down to the forest some day? Just for a bit! And I won’t go too far! I just wanted to walk around and explore and _be_ with nature.” Chanyeol frowns, biting down on the inside of his cheek to stop the wave of despair from overtaking him. “I have not been allowed to walk freely in...in a long, long time.”

Chanyeol startles and nearly falls backwards onto the cold, hard stone of the cave floor when Soo suddenly stands. 

His brow is set, jaw tense and clenched as his eyes burn golden. He holds out a hand to Chanyeol and yanks him up to his feet before pulling him towards the entrance of the cave, strides strong and determined. 

Chanyeol had not meant for them to go at this exact moment, but he surely isn’t going to complain. He can almost feel himself begin to salivate at the idea of dirt and grass beneath his feet, connected to nature and the life that thrums within it.

On the cliff outside the cave, Soo sheds his clothing and dark scales break out along his skin. It starts in patches along his upper back where two wings are slowly growing out from his shoulder blades, then his arms and legs. His nails blacken and grow into long, deadly sharp claws, and when he turns back to smile at Chanyeol, his mouth is filled with daggers. Chanyeol can only watch in awe as the short, well-built man he has shared the cave with for five days transforms into an enormous dragon with black scales and silver wings.

Chanyeol’s body desperately wants to join him, the urge to shift and take flight crawling out of the marrow of his bones. The collar keeps him place, sparking metal burning along his skin and in his mouth. 

He makes do with clambering up onto Soo’s back when the dragon swings his great head around to gesture for him to sit in the space between his wings and his neck. The black scales are sleek yet rough under his hands. They feel smooth when he runs his hand down the side of Soo’s neck, but he knows very well how sharp dragon scales are when one goes against the grain.

Chanyeol clamps his thighs tight against Soo's sides, leaning forward to wrap his arms around the dragon's long, elegant neck. His heart flutters in his chest with excitement as Soo takes a few steps toward the very edge of the cliff. He looks down and feels a smile spread across his lips. The forest below is a sea of green, so far below that even the tallest of trees appear small.

Soo leaps suddenly, diving towards the ground with his wings tucked tight to his back. Chanyeol lets out a high-pitched, laughing scream as they fall.

The ground rushes up to meet them. His pulse is roaring in his ears, deafening even with the wind. He clings to Soo with all his strength. Just before they hit the ground Soo unfurls his wings and catches enough air to send them shooting back up into the sky. And then, in that moment of lift, Chanyeol feels absolutely weightless.

They soar just below the clouds, so close that Chanyeol almost wants to sit up and try to reach for one. He doesn’t though, aware of just how high they are and just how poorly his human body would fare if he happened to slip from Soo’s back. Instead, he stares down at the world and watches it pass by in a blur of color, so high up that he cannot distinguish any other feature.

He knows that they have no reason to be flying as aimlessly as they are, or at all, really. Soo could have simply softened their descent down to the base of the mountain and allowed Chanyeol to wander there for a bit; he is grateful to be able to wander through the forest at all.

Soo seems content to drift through the sky, wings flapping once every so often to keep them from dropping. Chanyeol feels a bit unsteady with delight at the horizon stretched out before him, flying without purpose, flying for the simple pleasure of flying. His hands tremble, heart pitter-pattering. Perhaps he sheds a few tears, but they are quickly wiped away on the sleeve of his borrowed shirt.

“Thank you,” he whispers into the wind. Soo huffs out two plumes of smoke, one from each nostril, and then begins to weave a pattern through the mountaintops, circling with no end in sight.

Chanyeol does not know how long they fly, just that when they finally land along the bank of a river not far from their mountain the sun is much lower in the sky than it had been when Soo dove off the cliff. When he climbs down off of Soo’s back, his legs give out from under him, no longer accustomed to supporting his own weight. 

He laughs as his knees hit dirt and he throws himself onto his back, lying in the tall grass with his arms and legs spread out haphazardly. The sun warms him from the outside in. 

Soo, back in his human form, stands over him, face obscured by shadow. Chanyeol looks up at him in confusion, only to blush and squirm when the man crouches down to press his lips to his forehead. Then, Soo walks away to sit in the shade underneath a large tree at the edge of the river, leaning back against the trunk with his hands behind his head. 

Chanyeol pushes himself back onto his feet and wanders off towards a cluster of what he thinks are berry bushes, rubbing at his cheeks to attempt to rid himself of his own embarrassment. It doesn’t work, only serves to make his face feel that much hotter.

He wanders for a long while, weaving between tree trunks and climbing up into their branches when he can. He never goes too far up, too eager to climb back down and continue exploring.

The wildflowers that bloom in the patches of sunlight shining through breaks in the canopy are soft to the touch, sweet-smelling and so pretty Chanyeol almost wants to pick a few to take back to the cave. He doesn’t though, something anxious and uncomfortable rolling in his stomach when he goes to pick a particularly pretty red flower.

Every so often, Chanyeol looks over his shoulder, looking back to Soo. As far as he can tell, Soo has never once taken his eyes off Chanyeol.

He kneels before the bushes dotted with black berries. He has seen them before, vague, hazy memories of tart juice staining his mouth, his fingers, smeared across his face because his father was not quick enough to wipe his hands clean. When he pulls a handful from the bush and shoves them into his mouth, he finds they taste just as he remembers—they stain just the same as well, the pads of fingers purple where he accidentally burst one of them.

Chanyeol eats another handful, and then another. He cannot remember the last time he ate anything so sweet. He cannot remember the last time he ate anything sweet at all. 

Fresh fruit was not something Master believed war dragons deserved.

Chanyeol looks back. Soo is watching him from under his tree with a neutral expression, snorting at the mess of berry juice Chanyeol can feel around his mouth. Chanyeol grabs two more fistfuls of berries and walks back to Soo to offer him some, joining him under the shade. Soo takes his portion with a nod; he eats slowly, lazily, as though he has all the time in the world. He eats without a bit of worry. He eats with the carelessness of someone free.

Chanyeol forces himself to mirror that same ease. He eats one berry at a time and does his best to savor the taste. No one is coming to take his treat away from him. He can eat as many or as few berries as he wishes—Soo seems to like how voraciously he eats, anyway, shaking his head and tapping at the corners of his own lips.

The sun is low in the sky, evening air warm and calm. The forest is alive around them; animals squeak and call, scuttering around the underbrush. Chanyeol watches with awe as a rabbit appears on the opposite side of the river, hopping down to the edge of the bank to drink. 

He is helpless to do anything but shove the last few berries into his mouth and hurry down to the very edge of the river bank as well. The rabbit startles and darts back into the underbrush, leaving Chanyeol crestfallen. “Oh no,” he frowns, “I scared it away.”

Soo laughs softly and joins Chanyeol by the river bank, crouching down beside him. Soo holds a finger up to his lips.

Chanyeol rolls his eyes. “I know, I was just a bit excited. Do you think it will come back if I wait?”

Soo shrugs and pats Chanyeol’s head before straightening up again. Chanyeol’s earlobe is tugged between two fingers. He looks up at the touch, confused and a bit startled, just to see Soo gesture to the area around them and nod vigorously. Then, he points to the other side of the river and shakes his head.

“I need to stay here,” Chanyeol asks. Soo nods, smiles, and then starts walking away, towards deeper parts of the forest. “W-wait! Where are you going? Are you leaving?”

When Soo continues to walk, Chanyeol’s chest suddenly begins to feel tight. He doesn’t want to be left alone, here in the middle of this forest with no idea where he is and no way out. Soo could leave him here to wait indefinitely if he so chose, if he decided that Chanyeol is more trouble than he is worth. “Soo, wait! Wait, please, don’t leave me!”

And Soo stops just before disappearing into the trees. He turns on his heel slowly. His eyebrows are drawn together, a deep frown creasing the corners of his mouth.

“You won’t… You will come back, right?”

Soo’s mouth drops open and he lets out a soft noise, crossing the distance between them with quick, determined strides before crouching down in front of Chanyeol. He cups Chanyeol’s cheeks with warm, calloused palms and holds his gaze as he nods, slow and solemn. 

“I’m sorry, Soo. I j-just—I just.”

“Shh,” Soo caresses his cheekbones with his thumbs. His voice is deep and rough with disuse, “Shh.” 

Chanyeol blinks, stricken dumb at the sound of Soo’s voice. When Soo goes to leave this time, Chanyeol only digs his fingers into the damp ground beneath him and does his best to swallow down his fear. It is unnerving, the need he has to be near him, to not be left alone. 

He is alone now though, alone for however long it takes Soo to finish whatever business it is he has and return. He pulls his knees to his chest, wraps his arms around them and rests his chin on top, staring out at the river to pass the time. Chanyeol does his best to remind himself that he is no stranger to being alone. He spent the better part of his life alone in a cell, but five days of constant, unwavering, amiable company has ruined any tolerance he had for loneliness.

This feeling is strange, needing someone. He isn’t sure if he likes it.

The river before him is slow. It flows unhurriedly and clear. Chanyeol can see fish swimming beneath the surface. 

The water looks so cool and inviting, the soft babbling drawing him in until he’s dipping his toes beneath the surface. The water _is_ cool. It feels lovely against his skin and he smiles, playing almost as though he were a child. 

Part of him yearns to dive in and splash around, paddle in the cool water like one of Master’s fancy waterdogs. He doesn’t think he has ever swam before, not as a child and most certainly not after he was captured. The river does not appear deep enough to drown, but he still hesitates to let the water go up past his knees. 

He sits on the edge of the river with his legs in the water and kicks, watching as the water ripples. He sings a nonsensical melody to himself.

Anxiety still prickles beneath his skin, but it is manageable with the fish nibbling at his toes and the river rocks against the soles of his feet. Maybe someday Soo will teach him to swim—if he knows how to. Soo seems to like this bit of forest, river included, perhaps this is where he spends his summer days, napping in the shade or sitting at the edge of the river just as Chanyeol is now. Perhaps this is where their children will learn to swim as well; Chanyeol will help them gather berries and watch Soo play with them in the river.

He smiles at the thought, chewing at his lower lip and tipping his head back to leisure in the late afternoon sun.

He thinks he falls asleep for a bit, as he wakes up lying on his back, opening his eyes to a soft touch to his cheek. Soo is kneeling beside him, blood smeared around his mouth. Chanyeol grunts softly, yawning, “You’re back. Are you hurt? The blood.”

Soo shakes his head. He helps Chanyeol sit up with a hand between his shoulder blades before pointing to a pair of deer carcasses beneath the shade tree. Soo had gone off to hunt, taken advantage of their trip to store up more supplies. Chanyeol is still processing the prey when Soo leans in and presses their lips together. Chanyeol lets out a noise he doesn’t recognize, something breathy and high. Soo startles back, cheeks flushing pink.

“I-I am ready to return, if that is alright with you. Wouldn’t want the meat to spoil.” Chanyeol scrambles to his feet and dusts off his clothing, searching for something to do with his hands to distract himself from the heat crawling up his neck. He chances a glance back up at Soo, only to blush that much harder at the other man’s heavy gaze. “Thank you for bringing me here today. I know it may not seem all that important to you, but I truly appreciate it.”

Soo does absolutely nothing in response. He simply stares with wide eyes and a shocked expression. It isn’t until Chanyeol utters a soft call of his name that he suddenly steps away to shift, skin breaking out into scales with a speed Chanyeol has never seen before. He takes the deer carcasses into his maw before dropping down low to let Chanyeol onto his back. 

Chanyeol’s lips tingle, as though they are sparking with lightning. The sensation is a bit disorienting and he feels clumsy as he scrambles up the great, scaled beast. Chanyeol has only just settled in place when Soo flaps his giant wings and sends them soaring up into the sky.

* * *

One morning, the skies open up and begin to pour. The rain falls fast and heavy, thunder booming overhead as lightning flashes blindingly bright. Chanyeol watches the storm rage from the safety of the nest. He has yet to bother to crawl out of it, stirring when Soo woke but deciding that his day would be much better spent under the furs. The rain has left the world cool and dreary and he can’t find a single reason to leave his warm, cozy space.

Soo had only chuckled when Chanyeol told him as much. The other man had beckoned him to eat breakfast next to the fire Soo had had to drag further into the cave to keep it safe from the rain, but Chanyeol shook his head and burrowed further into the nest to wait out the storm.

Soo ended up bringing breakfast to him. Chanyeol’s stomach still feels fluttery, stuffed full of butterflies, more nervous than he was when he poked his head out from the nest to see what Soo was occupying himself with and found the man sitting mere inches away with a bowl full of rabbit meat and berries from the bush near the river. He held out a strip of meat to Chanyeol’s lips and watched him with raised, expectant eyebrows until he took it.

He had eaten his entire breakfast that way, handfed in bed like a little prince. Even when he moved to sit up and take the bowl into his own hands, Soo offered him one bite after another.

Chanyeol is slowly coming to realize that he is becoming quite a coddled man.

Soo dotes on him; he is seemingly happy to take Chanyeol to the forest whenever he asks, stays calm and steady no matter how much Chanyeol tosses and turns at night. He refuses to let Chanyeol feed himself anything that does not require a utensil— _refuses._

He seems to enjoy caring for Chanyeol. Soo is never even the slightest bit overbearing. Chanyeol has yet to feel stifled or restricted; if anything, he feels pampered and precious, the mixture of the two becoming some strange emotion he cannot name. 

Soo just seems very satisfied in his ability to provide.

When Chanyeol finished eating breakfast, cheeks and ears stained red with embarrassment, Soo pet his hair for a few moments before moving to sit at the mouth of the cave with a piece of wood and the fingers on one hand all shifted into claws. His other hand was stained from the berries, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

He is still there now, whittling away. The fire has long since died out, embers nearly completely cool, sun beginning its descent. Still, Soo carves.

He carves a good deal. Chanyeol hadn’t noticed it until roughly a full moon had passed of living together, but Soo keeps a pile of wood in the farthest corner of the cave solely for the purpose of carving. Chanyeol isn’t quite sure what exactly it is that he is carving or for what purpose. Not that he ever plans on nosing around in Soo’s business; carving makes Soo happy, that is all Chanyeol needs to know.

Chanyeol stretches out his body as if he was a barn cat, yawning so widely his jaw pops. Soo glances over his shoulder at the noise. He huffs out a laugh through his nose and shakes his head. 

Chanyeol smiles back at him and rubs his cheek against the side of the nest. He likely should get up now, but he doesn’t want to, instead humming to himself and shifting to get comfortable once again. He traces the outline of Soo’s body with his eyes. Muscles shift and bunch under the skin of Soo’s back and Chanyeol swallows against a strange hunger that grows in his belly.

He curls his hands into fists, heart skipping a beat when Soo suddenly reaches his hands above his head and stretches until his spine cracks. 

Chanyeol has felt this before, this bit of heat in his stomach. He feels it when they kiss; Soo has started kissing him more and more often as time goes on, gently grabs him by the jaw and presses their lips together. He still doesn’t know exactly how to kiss. He lets Soo lead and tries to mirror the way he moves his lips, though he mostly ends up just pressing in close and sighing into Soo’s mouth. Any clumsy attempts to take things further are met with Soo pushing him back and kissing him once on the forehead before moving off to busy himself with something else.

It leaves Chanyeol frustrated and needy, wanting but not sure what for or how he can soothe the ache. He wants more now, more than just back scratches or half-asleep cuddles. He huffs and squirms, frowning as his cock starts to harden between his legs.

“Soo,” he calls. Soo turns to face him with a questioning hum.

Chanyeol gnaws on his lower lip, needy but uncertain of how Soo will react. “Would...would you come here?” 

Soo tilts his head to the side, expression slipping into concern. He is up on his feet and crossing the cave in seconds. Chanyeol pushes up onto his elbows to meet him as he steps into the nest and sits down beside him. He looks between Soo’s eyes, wide and a little worried, and his lips.

It takes all the bravery within him to cup the back of Soo’s neck and pull him in for a kiss. 

Soo doesn’t respond, body going stiff and still. Chanyeol is suddenly filled with a wave of regret, utterly humiliated. His heart twists in his chest, the heat in his stomach freezing instantaneously, and he pulls away. 

“Sorry. I am so sorry.” He rolls onto his other side and covers his face with his hands. “I-I shouldn’t have—please, forget it ever happened.” He thought that Soo would want him in the same way. Soo has always been the one to initiate, to touch and to hold; Chanyeol thought that Soo thought he was handsome, _wanted_ him. But apparently he thought wrong, absolutely, mortifyingly wrong.

Hot tears well up and spill down, so embarrassed and angry with himself. He should have known better. Soo was likely just as wanting for touch as he is and Chanyeol was simply the closest, easiest option. He never actually wanted _Chanyeol,_ just someone to be around and breed whenever Soo decides he wants children.

Strong hands grasp at his shoulder and attempt to roll him back over. He shakes his head, burying his face in the furs. “Please, just leave me be. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

Soo grumbles. He pulls at Chanyeol’s shoulder again. When Chanyeol still refuses to move, Soo steps over his body to kneel at his other side and tug his hands away from his face. Chanyeol squeezes his eyes shut even as calloused thumbs brush at the wet skin under his eyes. Soo sighs softly before leaning down and bumping their foreheads together.

“It is alright if you don’t want me,” Chanyeol starts.

“Shh.” 

“B-but—”

“Shh,” Soo says again, more insistently. Soo takes him by the wrist and presses a kiss to the palm of his hand.

Chanyeol finally opens his eyes. There is an indecipherable expression on Soo’s face, brows pulled together, mouth not quite a frown but nowhere near a smile. Chanyeol drops his gaze and swallows at the sight of Soo’s bare chest. 

Dead as it was, that itching, gnawing sensation to touch and be touched slowly flickers back to life as he watches Soo breathe, unable to look away from the way his abdomen flexes. Soo has yet to let go of his wrist, instead rubbing absent-minded circles over his pulse as his other hand rests on Chanyeol’s ribcage. 

“Do you? I mean, do you find me attractive?” Soo nods once, deep and strangely serious. Emboldened, Chanyeol pushes himself up a bit to meet his eyes, “I think you’re very handsome as well.” 

Soo smiles and moves a hand up from his ribs to pinch at his cheek. Chanyeol feels himself flush, but only has a moment to dwell on it before he’s being kissed, earnest and eager. 

Chanyeol jerks, startled. He does his best to kiss Soo back, stumbling clumsily through it until Soo teases his mouth open, licking at the seam of his lips. Chanyeol lets out a little noise of surprise; they’ve never done this before, Soo helping him tilt his head so that the other man can trace the back of his teeth with his tongue. Chanyeol clutches at Soo’s wrist, pressing in as close as he possibly can, heart racing in his chest and need building in his lower belly. 

Soo groans into his mouth. He presses Chanyeol into the furs; Chanyeol goes easy, pliant, kissing back back as best as he possibly can. He pants and scrambles at Soo’s shoulder with one hand. Soo slowly pulls back, biting down gently on Chanyeol’s lower lip. Chanyeol’s eyes flutter open and he stares at Soo’s face, shocked silent and breathless. 

Soo stares back at him as though there is no one else in the world, no one at all.

Chanyeol has never felt more beautiful.

“I-I know that I have never had s-sex before, but I would like to try. I’ve touched myself before, so I know something, but I just—I look at you and I _want_ , _”_ he whispers. Chanyeol strokes Soo’s cheekbone and waits. 

Soo searches his face for something; Chanyeol isn’t quite sure of what it is but he thinks he found it, expression softening, relaxing. He breaks into a smile and lowers himself down to kiss Chanyeol again. Chanyeol sighs happily, shifting his legs apart so that Soo can fit between them.

They move slowly. Soo kisses him for a long, long while before trailing down his jaw to his neck, where he latches on, sucking marks into Chanyeol’s skin. Moans drag themselves out of Chanyeol’s throat, embarrassing little noises as he squirms. It feels good, cock hardening between his legs as fingers slip under his shirt and drag over his skin. The pleasure is brand new and it sparks under his skin, huffing out breath after breath. 

When he starts to breathe too hard too fast, Soo moves to shush him. He rubs his nose against Chanyeol’s and kisses his cheek. He makes a noise of questioning and pulls back to look into his eyes. Chanyeol thinks he is searching for regret now, fear, Chanyeol thinks he’s asking if they should continue.

“I’m alright,” Chanyeol mumbles. “I’m just—a lot, overwhelming. Kiss me again?”

Soo nods, and then he kisses Chanyeol again and again, until his lips are numb and feeling bruised. He helps Chanyeol strip off his shirt before leaving a few more marks along his collarbones. 

Chanyeol has never had anyone touch his nipples before. He squeaks and jerks when Soo brushes his thumbs over them. He doesn’t think he’s all that sensitive, but it’s so new and unexpected that he can’t help the wild shiver that runs down his spine. Soo chuckles; he rolls Chanyeol’s nippes between his finger and thumb, tugs at them until Chanyeol has to clasp his hands over Soo’s to keep them still.

“Too much,” Chanyeol writhes and bucks his hips.

His pants are the next to go, shimmied down his legs and tossed away. Hands roam down his body and Chanyeol pants, moans, groans. He lets himself be played with and does his best to touch Soo in return, but his hands are shaky and he has no idea what to do with them. He finds himself stuck grinding helplessly, need a heavy lump of coal in his gut.

Soo is careful with him still, touching, stroking until Chanyeol is letting out mortifyingly desperate noises into his mouth and going tense all over. Chanyeol comes once, twice, so sensitive that he can’t help himself. Each time, Soo holds him through it and kisses his sweaty face, his slack mouth. Chanyeol thinks it’s a far cry from sex, an even farther cry from breeding.

Soo fetches a vial from his stash of supplies and opens Chanyeol up so carefully. Chanyeol rides his hips back for more. “Soo, Soo, please. I want—I’m close again, so close.”

“Shh,” Soo kisses the shell of his ear. “Shh. O-okay?” The word is slurred and rough, like Soo had to drag it out of himself. The sound of Soo’s voice makes him come again, clenching down, the pleasure coming from somewhere deeper inside.

There is a long pause after that. Soo just hovers over him, watching with wide eyes, cautious as he leaves feather-light kisses along Chanyeol’s brow. Chanyeol appreciates the break, even if it does make him focus on how open he is, how Soo is right there, naked and hot between his legs. 

A part of him is suddenly terrified, so vulnerable and laid bare in front of another person. He thinks of how this would have gone at Lord Beckham’s castle, cold, impersonal, and feels a wave of nausea. 

But Soo is nothing like Lord Beckham’s prized war dragon. Soo fits his arms around Chanyeol’s back and holds him close. He lets Chanyeol grab him by the face and kiss him, sloppy and unpracticed. 

If Chanyeol says stop, tries to move away, Soo will let him go.

After Chanyeol has caught his breath, Soo moves to spread his legs further apart, gaze locked on his face as he lifts his hips up. Chanyeol wraps his arms around Soo’s shoulders and lets him. He feels himself be split open and whines, panting into the crook of Soo’s neck. Soo is gentle and slow, easing them both into it.

Chanyeol rocks with each thrust. He attempts to meet Soo on each one, but he’s clumsy and unsure and uncoordinated; he settles for clinging, head spinning with pleasure. “Aah, ah, Soo! M-more!”

Soo groans in his ear, takes the lobe between his teeth. He has Chanyeol, taking and taking whatever Chanyeol gives. Chanyeol loses himself in the rhythm, movement and noise and being held so close.

He comes before Soo does, the fourth time. It winds him, makes him tired and oversensitive and shaking. “Good,” he whispers. “So good. Please, I want.”

Soo finishes inside of him with a grunt, grinding against him until he’s completely spent. Chanyeol kisses his face, every part that he can reach, feeling so warm and content. Soo smiles down at him. Chanyeol smiles back. 

He winces when they separate, Soo shifting to lie down beside him in the dark. The sun is nearly gone now, the moon coming up to take its place. It’s late enough that it wouldn’t be entirely ridiculous to call it a day and spend the rest of it curled up in the nest. Soo seems to have the same idea, not making any sort of move to get up and go back to his carving.

Chanyeol rolls onto his side. He tucks himself into Soo’s arms and yawns, cuddling close. He feels seed leak out of him and knows he’s been bred, but it doesn’t feel as though he’s been bred. He feels as though—he doesn’t know exactly what he feels. It’s like being cared for but more intense, more all-consuming. So, he settles for feeling as though he’s being cared for like someone very, very precious, and falls asleep to Soo stroking his hair.

* * *

They wake up the morning after still wrapped up in each other, Soo humming softly when Chanyeol ventures to cling and cuddle in closer. And that seems to spark some sort of change. 

His confidence grows throughout the days and nights they spend together, circling in ever closer until Chanyeol wakes each morning excited to see Soo’s face. He feels more comfortable, sees the cave as his own home and is unapologetic about his need for Soo’s attention—which is near constant, just an unending want to feel so precious again. Chanyeol needs him to initiate sex less and less, instead just tugging the other man to the nest himself when he feels that aching need in his lower belly. Soo never seems to mind either. Each kiss Chanyeol pouts for, each extra second of attention he does his best to steal, Soo offers it without complaint, smiling and rolling his eyes at Chanyeol’s antics.

He is dangerously indulgent. Chanyeol knows he’ll soon be spoiled rotten if Soo doesn’t start withholding his affection. Chanyeol survived years of near isolation, but after two moons of Soo’s care he worries that the deprivation will be too much to bear. Perhaps Soo has spoiled him rotten already.

Soo doesn’t seem to have any inclination towards pushing Chanyeol away though. After each breeding, he is the one to pull Chanyeol close and leave soft, tired kisses along every bit of skin he can reach.

Chanyeol has learned how much he loves to talk. He never did before. Master wanted him quiet, to be seen and not heard, and so he was. But now he cannot seem to _stop_ talking. He fills the silence of the cave with chatter, rambling on and on about absolutely nothing and yet he never seems to run out of things to say. He blames it on years of never being able to say anything. That is the one thing that Chanyeol does that bothers Soo, the constant noise. He openly revels in the silence when Chanyeol is too busy eating to speak, when he’s too tired to do much but let out soft noises and nuzzle against the side of Soo’s face.

Sometimes, Chanyeol wonders if Soo pins him down in the nest and fucks him breathless simply to get him to shut his mouth. 

If so, Chanyeol can’t really fault him for it. It’s incredibly effective. And it’s not as though Chanyeol doesn’t get his own rewards out of it as well.

“Hey, Soo,” he calls out softly one long, hot afternoon. Soo is working on a large carving today, has been for the past few days. It’s nearly Chanyeol’s height and starting to take the shape of a deer. He has done his best to keep his chattering to a minimum, gnawing on some of the jerky Soo keeps in a little cloth pouch so that the other man can concentrate. 

He gets so unnervingly tense when Chanyeol talks as he’s trying to work, a blood vessel in his temple standing out against his skin from how tightly he clenches his jaw. Something about it, the blatant irritation and the way he sighs out of his nose without his usual fondness, makes Chanyeol shut his mouth and hide in their nest. 

Even now, as he calls Soo’s name because he’s feeling unbearably lonely, he flinches and waits for Soo to start snarling.

Soo stops his carving and turns to watch Chanyeol with expectant eyebrows instead.

“Can I sit with you?” Chanyeol blinks when Soo smiles, looking at him as though he’s being absolutely ridiculous, and nods. He pats the ground next to him with one bare foot. Chanyeol scurries over on all fours and settles on his ass, leaning his head against Soo’s clothed thigh. Soo only wears clothing when he’s carving big pieces such as this, and Chanyeol misses the feeling of skin against skin. 

Soo cups the back of his head and leans down to kiss him, snorting when he lets out a sigh of contentment. Being quiet is a lot easier like this, when he can play with the hem of Soo’s pants and not feel so lonely.

He lets the other man work in peace until he takes a break for a very late lunch. It’s a stew, something Chanyeol had thrown together when they awoke that morning, so Soo cannot handfeed it to him, but they eat with their backs to the cave wall, sides pressed together. He does a little dance when Soo gives the food a vigorous nod and a thumbs-up—Chanyeol’s prior experience with cooking has all been under Soo’s watchful eye, with this stew as a sort of test to see if he can make something that isn’t poison.

“You’re an excellent teacher,” he smiles as his cheeks warm, feeling unreasonably bashful. Soo clicks his tongue before darting in to press his lips to Chanyeol’s cheek. “You are! I would never have learned if you weren’t here to teach me! You taught me how to swim too! I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as patient as you.”

For the first time, it is Soo who turns red in embarrassment. He scoffs and dismisses Chanyeol with a wave of his hand. 

Chanyeol grins and leans his cheek on top of Soo’s head, giggling to himself. Soo retaliates by pinching the soft skin of his belly but quickly runs his finger over the spot again to soothe it. “I like it when you teach me things,” Chanyeol grabs Soo’s wrist before he can pull it back and laces their fingers together.

It’s a bit more difficult to eat soup with only one hand, but they manage. They have to; Chanyeol refuses to let go of Soo’s hand. He refuses to let go even when he lets his claws come out and playfully pretends to scratch at him. The closest Soo gets to freedom is when he goes to lick at Chanyeol’s hand, but then he becomes the one holding on tight and keeping Chanyeol in place. It isn’t the strangest place on his body that Soo has licked, at least.

When they finish eating, Soo finally pulls free to put their bowls away. He then stands back in front of his sculpture with both hands shifted into talons and starts carving out the fine details of the deer’s face.

Chanyeol watches. He pays attention, trying to understand exactly how Soo gets the little grooves in the nose just right, how he makes it appear as though there is hair inside the ears, hair all over the deer’s body. Chanyeol watches Soo carve for the first time, not just listing over at his side or waiting to beg for attention, truly watches, and realizes this is something he would like to learn to do as well.

He waits for Soo to finish carving on his own—he may be spoiled, but he isn’t _that_ spoiled. Then, as Soo gently pushes the wood to the side of the cave, Chanyeol sweeps out the dust and splinters that had fallen to the ground before coming up behind Soo and wrapping his arms around his middle.

Soo lets out a curious grunt and leans his head back against Chanyeol’s shoulder. He smiles up at him with those pretty, full lips. Chanyeol can’t help but kiss him once, drawn in like a moth to a flame.

A need for more attempts to make an appearance, goaded on by Soo’s body heat against his chest. Chanyeol shakes his head to clear out the thoughts before they slip under his skin and make him drag Soo back to the nest and whine to be taken care of. Soo snorts and makes a sound not unlike a horse’s whinny. 

Suddenly feeling incredibly shy, Chanyeol ducks his face into Soo’s shoulder and absentmindedly rubs the fabric of Soo’s shirt between his fingers. “Do you think that perhaps one day you could teach me to carve,” he asks. 

Instead of coaxing Chanyeol’s face away from his shoulder to answer the way he typically does when Chanyeol hides like this, Soo covers Chanyeol’s hands on his stomach with his own and begins to walk, forcing Chanyeol along with him. Chanyeol looks up in surprise to see that they are moving towards Soo’s pile of wood scraps. Soo pulls free then and begins digging through the pile with soft grunts and hums.

Chanyeol allows himself to be dragged down to the ground and pushed to sit on his ass, hands out to take the small block of wood Soo gives to him. Soo takes a block of wood for himself before joining Chanyeol on the cave floor.

His free hand grows five long, black talons and he gestures for Chanyeol to do the same, obviously wanting to teach by example. When Chanyeol hesitates, humiliation creeping up his spine, Soo shakes his head and reaches out to take Chanyeol by the wrist, exceedingly mindful of his claws. Then, he watches expectantly for Chanyeol’s own nails to shift, looking up every few heartbeats with a soft, encouraging smile.

And Chanyeol does try to shift, but there’s a thick, metallic block stopping any sort of magic. War dragons only shift at their master’s behest.

“I-I cannot shift forms,” he confesses after the moment has dragged out too long for him to stand. “The collar, I can only shift when and to the extent Master allows. It’s almost as if I’m not a dragon at all.”

Soo’s mouth drops open at that. Horror radiates off of him, so thick and strong Chanyeol can nearly _feel_ it. He drops the wood to run the fingers of his other hand along the cold metal of the collar. He had never paid any attention to it before except to move it and give himself more access to Chanyeol’s neck during their intimate moments. Chanyeol had appreciated it, how he wasn’t made to feel as if he were some poor, weak, defenseless victim that needed to be coddled and taken care of every minute of the day. But now he wonders if Soo had never paid attention to the collar because he did not truly understand what it means, how limited and powerless Chanyeol is with it around his neck.

Regardless, all Chanyeol can do now is shrug sheepishly. “If we have some sort of knife, I would happily use that. Or...or I can just continue to watch for now. That is fine.”

Something seems to come together behind Soo’s eyes. He huffs out a heavy breath through his nose, reaching out to snatch Chanyeol’s block of wood back. It is not entirely unexpected, that Soo would be irritated to know that the carrier he chose is so useless, but it still makes Chanyeol wince, a deep pain burning cold in his chest.

All his thoughts fly away a moment later as Soo crawls into his lap, back to Chanyeol’s chest. He manipulates Chanyeol’s hands until they cover his own, not enough for Chanyeol’s overly large hands to engulf Soo’s, but enough for Chanyeol to feel his movements. One nail gouges out a line in the wood. Soo tips his head back against Chanyeol’s shoulder and hums out a questioning sound. 

“You’re going to let me use you as a knife?” Chanyeol can’t help the warm, fluttering feelings in his chest, nor can he stop the big, ridiculous grin that they force upon him when Soo nods and smiles up at him, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Thank you. You’re too kind to me.”

“Shh.” Soo strains upwards and kisses the underside of Chanyeol’s jaw. 

Soo then clears his throat, settling back down and forcing their attention back to the wood and the slow, purposeful strokes of his claw as it carves out what appears to be the beginnings of a rudimentary flower.

* * *

It is late, the moon high in the sky though the moonlight cannot reach that far into the cave. Chanyeol is curled around Soo, blinking into the dark as he cards his fingers through Soo’s hair. Fingers run up and down his spine and he shivers when they dip down to his ass to smear the seed dripping out of his body. “That tickles,” he grumbles, shifting in place.

He feels Soo smile against his shoulder. A finger presses inside him without warning and he yelps, one leg kicking out on reflex. Soo laughs outright as one finger becomes two and they begin to spread apart, spread him open. Seed leaks out of him in rivulets. 

Chanyeol whines and attempts to roll away, only for Soo to lay an arm over his waist to keep him pinned in place. 

“No more. I feel…sticky now.” Chanyeol squirms in place and cringes at the wet, tacky sensation between his thighs. “This is the part of sex I do not enjoy, the wetness. It isn’t funny! It is so much easier for you, Soo, I have my seed on my stomach and yours in-inside me and you are already clean!” 

Soo shifts up higher in the nest to kiss Chanyeol. He coos at Chanyeol’s pout and tugs gently at the lobe of his ear until Chanyeol bats him away. “I don’t like feeling dirty,” Chanyeol rubs his cheek against the top of Soo’s head.

When Soo attempts to sit up, reaching for the rag they cut from Chanyeol’s old shirt, however, Chanyeol holds him tight and shakes his head, suddenly terrified of being left alone. He cannot explain it, why his heart starts to race and his chest feels heavy, as though he can’t breathe, but it makes him dig his fingers into Soo’s skin and cling. “Later. Clean me later. Don’t leave me.”

“Shh,” Soo whispers as he settles back down, “Shh.” It’s meant to be soothing, Soo nuzzling at his collarbones and rubbing between his shoulderblades. 

Chanyeol needs more than to be hushed. He wants _words._ The silence between them has been eating at him. He was happy to fill it all on his own for a good while, but lately he has found himself craving a response that is more than raised eyebrows and fond exasperation. He wants a conversation; it can be short, stilted, so long as Chanyeol doesn’t feel as though he’s talking into the empty loneliness of his dungeon cell again. Right now, he wants to be promised that Soo won’t leave him, that Soo will never leave him behind. He wants Soo to help him understand why he feels so scared.

But Soo cannot speak, _doesn’t_ speak. Dragons have a natural predilection towards understanding all spoken and written languages, so he understands every word that falls from Chanyeol’s lips, but he likely has never learned to actually _say_ them himself. He likely will never learn, wild as he is.

Chanyeol closes his eyes and tries to take the comfort Soo is offering. 

Sleep doesn’t come to him. He tries to sleep, eyes closed and furs pulled up to his shoulders to keep him warm, but he feels much too restless. He isn’t sure if Soo has fallen asleep yet. His breathing is slow and even, but it wouldn’t be the first time Chanyeol thought he was asleep only to startle and scream when he sees Soo watching him.

Still, Soo tends to stir once Chanyeol does; he’s still and silent when Chanyeol shifts and rubs at his eyes. Confident that the other man is deeply asleep and unable to hear him, Chanyeol sighs to himself, “I wish we could speak to each other.”

Soo grunts, pushing up on his elbows to look Chanyeol in the eye. Chanyeol doesn’t scream, but only just. It’s too dark for Chanyeol to read Soo’s expression, but he knows instinctively that it isn’t a pleasant one. They _do_ speak to each other—with their bodies, at least, expressing what they can with facial expressions and muscle tension. 

Soo seems to be much better at understanding that sort of language than Chanyeol. He always knows precisely when Chanyeol is upset, what he needs when his words fail him or when he is too shy to speak. Chanyeol feels as though sometimes he’s lucky to notice Soo’s most basic emotions. He is constantly scrambling to understand what Soo wants, what he’s feeling. It just feels as though whatever it is between them is so _superficial._ Sometimes it feels as though he hardly knows the other dragon at all.

Chanyeol swallows down the nervous lump in his throat. “I would teach you human language, if you would let me. I know you already understand it! But you could— _we_ could speak it together? We could talk together, you know? Discuss, communicate, interact.”

However Soo felt about Chanyeol’s wish before, he very obviously doesn’t like it now. He growls high in his chest. It rumbles through him and into Chanyeol, who feels just how much Soo dislikes the idea of speaking like the humans do. 

“I know that the free dragons are not keen on speaking human language, and I understand why. The humans have taken many of us and destroyed most of our homelands, but,” Chanyeol stops, unsure of what possible reason he could have. There are many reasons to shirk the human languages and very, very few to learn to speak them. Truthfully, Chanyeol isn’t sure he would be speaking if it were not for the fact that he doesn’t remember dragon language and is quite certain that the damned collar around his neck would keep him from using it even if he did manage to remember. 

And so, Chanyeol shrinks into himself, suddenly feeling so small and so self-centered. “N-nevermind, I’m sorry I asked you to learn everything. It was rude of me. But do you think that you could perhaps learn how to say my name? Nothing else! Just—just how to say my name?” 

He startles when Soo cups his cheeks and presses a kiss to his lips. He nods and the tips of their noses rub together. Then, Soo clears his throat and lets out a sound that Chanyeol can only assume is an attempt at his name.

When Chanyeol giggles, Soo grunts in irritation and tries again. Chanyeol is endlessly appreciative, because it sounds almost as though Soo has attempted to pronounce Chanyeol’s name before. He wonders if he has been saying Soo’s name incorrectly this entire time and this is how Soo feels, touched but trying very hard not to laugh. 

“It’s very close,” Chanyeol says as he sits up. He takes Soo’s hands in his own, their fingers lacing together absentmindedly. “Try again: Chanyeol.”

“Shanyah?”

“Ch-ch-ch. Chanyeol.” 

Soo huffs out a breath and squeezes Chanyeol’s hands. “Sh...Ch. Ch-ch-ch. Chanyah. Shanyah. Chanyah.”

Chanyeol grins, nearly bouncing in place with delight. “Better! A lot better! Try more of an _oh_ sound at the end? Chan _yeol._ ” Soo simply stares at him, patience apparently already worn thin. It’s strange considering Soo is usually so patient with him, but it is very late and this is a skill that Soo hadn’t wanted to learn in the first place, so Chanyeol decides to stop before Soo gets upset. “Maybe we can try again tomorrow? You can always call me something like _Channie,_ if that’s easier.”

“Channie,” Soo repeats. He lets out a chuckles that tapers off into a sigh. “Channie.”

Chanyeol lets himself be dragged down to the nest once more, tucked in perhaps a bit too aggressively. Soo settles them so that Chanyeol’s back is to his chest, his lips at the nape of Chanyeol’s neck. Chanyeol feels a bit more settled now, not so restless. He lets out a content sound when Soo kisses the skin under his lips and murmurs, rough and a bit slurred, “Channie.”

* * *

“Soo, it’s so hot out. Do you think it will rain again soon?”

“I believe my knife is getting a bit dull. The last time I tried to carve with it I noticed the lines were very jagged and rough. We should also look into making a second knife. I’m not sure if it’s safe to use the same knife for carving and for food. Thank you again for giving me this knife in the first place. It’s not the same as having claws, but it’s better than relying on you to help me carve.”

“Those apple trees should be ripe in a few days, right? The ones in the clearing on the other side of the river? I can’t remember the last time I ate apples. Or any other fruits, save for those berries. Perhaps tomorrow we could go down to the river and check?”

Chanyeol chatters on and on, an incessant stream of noise as he paces circles around the cave. Soo is still working on his deer carving. He’s nearly finished with it, just carving out the most miniscule details like the texture of the fur and the expression in its eyes. His jaw is set in concentration, brows furrowed and the corners of his mouth turned down. 

His frown only grows as Chanyeol continues to talk. Chanyeol hasn’t seen him smile since they finished their morning meal. Soo had helped him to clear away their dishes and then gone straight to work, just as he had the day before, and the day before that. Chanyeol did his best to be quiet those days, biting his tongue and waiting until meals to ramble into Soo’s ear. 

Today, he’s just so horribly bored and lonely that he simply cannot help himself.

“What would you like to eat for supper tomorrow,” Chanyeol asks, coming to a stop behind his lover and looming over him. “I know it’s hot, but for some reason I am craving that stew you made during the last thunderstorm. The one with all the carrots and the dried herbs you keep in the green pouch. If you don’t want it, I’m happy with whatever you want. It just...sounds delicious? Soo? Are you alright?”

Soo is rubbing at his temples, eyes squeezed shut and teeth bared. Chanyeol swallows. His stomach twists uncomfortably and he considers hiding in the nest.

He fiddles with the knife Soo gave him after he took a real interest in carving, a sharpened stone tied to a stick. Soo had used it to chop fruits, vegetables, and meat for meals, but offered it to Chanyeol to make up for his lack of actual claws. Chanyeol wonders if it wouldn’t be such a bad idea for him to settle himself away from Soo with a block of wood and hack at it until the other man doesn’t look quite so angry.

But he doesn’t _want_ to stay away. He wants to be close. He wants Soo’s attention and affection. He wants someone to talk to.

Silence draws on between them for a few minutes more. Soo sighs and rolls out his neck and shoulders before his hands shift back into claws. He reaches out to scratch grooves into the hooves of the deer. 

“How much more needs to be done before you’re finished,” Chanyeol shuffles a bit closer.

Soo snarls and launches himself up to full height. Chanyeol startles; he attempts to step back only for Soo to grab him by the wrists and tug him to the mouth of the cave. The edge of the cliff comes into view. Chanyeol is suddenly, painfully reminded of precisely how high up the mountain they are. 

His heart beats wildly, crashing inside his chest. “Wh-what are you doing? Soo? Soo! Stop! I can’t fly,” he yells, screams, fear so thick in his veins that he feels as if he’s going to faint.

“Shh, Chanyah. _Shh.”_ Black scales erupt all over Soo’s body, wings bursting from his back. Chanyeol tries to dig his heels into the dirt but can’t stop sliding forward, unable to hold his ground against Soo and his strength. Soo pulls Chanyeol in close to hold him tightly by the waist. Then, he takes a running jump off the cliff. Soo is completely shifted before they have a chance to fall, but it doesn’t stop the terror that makes Chanyeol’s breath catch in his throat.

It is the first flight Chanyeol has ever truly hated. 

Soo carries him to the river. When his feet finally touch ground, he rips himself from Soo’s arms with so much force he loses his balance and falls to his knees in the grass. He gasps for air and blinks back terrified tears. His limbs shake, fingers trembling where they’re still wrapped around the handle of his little knife. 

He knows Soo would never hurt him, or he likes to think he knows, but he can’t stop imagining being thrown from the cave and falling his death against the cold, unfeeling stone of the mountain.

“I-I cannot _believe_ you would scare me in this way! I thought you were going to kill me” he whips his head around to scream at Soo. He blinks quickly, looking around in confusion when he finds himself alone. High in the sky, a dark is just disappearing into the clouds. “H-he _left_ me?”

Chanyeol heaves out a broken, furious sob. He wipes at the hot tears that run down his cheeks, sniffling as he slowly gets to his feet. Soo has left him behind, _abandoned_ him. He knew that Soo was irritated, but he didn’t think that he was so annoying that Soo would decide that he was no longer worth having around. His chest aches, a deep pain as though he’s being broken in two.

He tells himself it’s anger. He screams obscenities at the sky and decides that if Soo no longer wants him, he will find someone who does. He will find his own home and live his own life. No one will ever abandon him again. His anger is fire, hot and scorching and familiar. He lets the rage fuel him, lets it burn him up from the inside. 

Blinded by his own anger, he stomps past the shade tree and off into the forest, crashing through the underbrush and wishing he was able to call forth a _real_ fire. He would scream and burn this entire forest to ash just as he was raised to do. He is a war dragon, only good for the singular purpose of destruction. Chanyeol tightens his grip on the knife and snarls like the wild, angry beast he is.

Chanyeol tells himself the dark, heavy feeling eating his gut is anger so that he doesn’t collapse into tears, curl up into a ball at the base of the shade tree, and hope that Soo changes his mind and comes back for him.

Because he knows very well that he’s not angry, not entirely. He’s _hurting._ He hurts so badly, feels a sting so deeply, because all he wants is for Soo to come back for him. The need to hold and be held, touch and be touched, _love and be loved,_ yawns open, starving. Chanyeol wants Soo to come back and _love_ him. 

Soo is all he has now. Soo is all he’s ever really had. No one else has ever held him or kissed him, fed him by hand or listened to him talk for hours on end. Soo never gets upset when Chanyeol wakes up in the middle of the night, shaking and sweaty from a half-remembered dream. Soo smiles at him and tugs at his ears, tickles him when they’re both feeling playful. Chanyeol doesn’t know much about love, but he is pretty sure he loves Soo and has hoped against hope that Soo loves him as well. He thought for certain that Soo at least cared about him.

Now, alone and abandoned for something as simple as talking too much, Chanyeol isn’t so sure. 

The fire in his chest burns out, lower lip trembling as he tries his best to fight away the urge to cry. He comes to halt in a completely unfamiliar part of the forest, surrounded by trees that all look alike, without the faintest idea of how to make his way back to the river. 

He looks around, frightened and utterly alone. He hates himself for his moment of blind fury, because now if Soo does come back for him, he isn’t where Soo left him. Even if Soo does go searching for him, there’s no certainty that he’ll find him, lost in the forest as he is.

This wouldn’t bother a war dragon. Before, when Chanyeol was nothing more than a weapon, the idea of being alone in nature for an indefinite amount of time was the most beautiful idea to have ever been dreamt of. But Chanyeol isn’t a war dragon, he _was,_ but he isn’t one now. Now, he’s a spoiled boy constantly chasing after his lover for affection, scared of being left with his own thoughts. 

The long, long grass tickles his ankles as he shuffles in place, looking for some sort of sign as to how to get back to the river. Every tree looks the same, the canopy overhead holding back all the sunlight so that Chanyeol cannot see far enough down any possible paths to decide which way to go.

Chanyeol chews at this lower lip. He takes a few steps forward just as something to do, but then something rustles in the underbrush ahead of him and he pauses.

“S-Soo? Is that you?” He walks one, two paces more. 

His breath catches in his throat as a large cat prowls out from the trees. Its coat is tan, the fur around its mouth white, and it stalks toward him, staring him down with two large green eyes. 

Chanyeol steps back on instinct even as he tightens his grip on his knife. The cat’s claws appear to be much sharper than his knife, as do its teeth when it pulls back its lips to hiss at him. He retreats until his back hits the trunk of a tree and he realizes he’s trapped. The cat lowers its body down until its belly is brushing the ground.

In the moments between when the cat’s pupils blow wide and when it pounces, Chanyeol attempts to shift forms. Panic floods his system. He is suddenly too aware of his own too soft skin and how it will split so easily under a sharp claw or fang, how this cat could get its jaws around his throat and end his life without much thought, how different this situation would be if he had claws and fangs of his own.

Shifting feels a lot like throwing his body against a door that’s been bricked shut on the other side. The collar keeps him contained, magic nearly ready to burst him at the seams. Still, he tries until he tastes copper in the back of his mouth.

The cat lunges at him with paws outstretched. Chanyeol moves on learned instinct, years of training sending him to the ground, rolling a bit to the side even as he thrusts his knife forward and into the meat of the cat’s shoulder. The creature yowls in pain. The momentum of the cat’s leap means he can’t keep his grip on the knife. It goes flying off towards the base of a distant tree. 

Chanyeol considers running for the knife while the cat gets its bearings, but the stab wound only seems to be a minor scratch and the cat is already limping back into a pouncing position.

Another, closer tree has some low-hanging branches that look just sturdy enough to hold his weight. He scrambles up the tree trunk. The bark is rough against his palms and the soles of his feet, scratching open the skin. Chanyeol pays the pain no mind, too concerned with getting as high up into the tree as he dares. 

It’s only when he decides he’s safe that he stops. He sits on the thickest, widest bough he can find with his back to the tree trunk, panting to catch his breath. He’s not nearly as fit as he used to be. He looks down at his palms first and hisses at the angry, bloody, red of his skin, the bits of wood sticking out. He can only imagine that his feet are much the same, if not worse, and so he doesn’t bother checking, instead looking down to see where the cat has gone. He expects to see it on the ground below, snarling up at him as it tries to devise a way to force him down from the tree.

He screams when he sees it clawing its way up the side of the tree instead. 

He has seen cats jump before—he assumed they had to have some way of walking along the rooftops of the barns lining Master’s training grounds. But he never thought they could _climb._

Chanyeol looks all around himself for a way down that won’t have him crossing paths with the cat that is climbing ever higher, ever closer. His only possible way out is leaping to the closest tree, but its branches are thin and weak, not likely to hold him. And even if they are able to take his weight, he isn’t sure if he can make that jump. 

That cat is only a few branches below him now though, so he isn’t sure if he even has a choice.

He carefully gets to his feet, hands on the trunk to steady himself. The cat is on another sturdy branch just below him, preparing to pounce once more.

Chanyeol panics and takes off at a run. He throws his body across the gap with a yell. Pain rips through his leg, the cat leaping after him and catching his lower left leg with his claws. The pain is so overwhelming that he forgets to grab the other branch when it’s close and he starts to fall.

His body screams for wings, magic burning fruitlessly through his veins. Wind whips past him as he falls and the ground rushes up to meet him. His heartbeat echoes in his ears, rabbit quick and terrified. 

A second magic unfurls in his belly, another heartbeat running even faster than his own.

Chanyeol’s eyes widen. He flails for a hold, suddenly fighting for more than just his own life. He manages to grab another branch. The wood cuts deeply into his skin but he holds on as tightly as he can. His feet scrape against the bark of the tree trunk, desperately trying to pull himself up onto the branch. He chances a glance over his shoulder to find the cat nowhere in sight. He wonders if it fell when it jumped as well.

Now that he knows the cat can climb, he decides he has a better chance of survival on the ground. If nothing else, he’ll be able to retrieve his knife and have some sort of weapon. 

He isn’t that high up in the tree anymore. He starts a slow descent back to the ground, ears straining for the snapping of a twig or the rustling of nearby brush. The branch closest to the ground is still much higher than he would like. He drops down, hanging by his hands, and looks for the most comfortable patch of dirt to fall into. Fear makes him sweat; his hands slip, slick with sweat and blood, and he starts to lose his grip on the branch.

“Oh no,” Chanyeol struggles to hold on. “No. No, no, no.”

The fall to the ground is short but painful, almost unbearably so. He lands on his injured leg—he hadn’t paid it much attention after he was clawed, too concerned with the cat and his human body’s inability to survive long falls. But the long, deep gouges that are weeping rivers of blood down his leg are all he can think about. Pain burns like fire up his leg and he cannot hold back his scream.

It hurts so badly that Chanyeol cannot even manage to stand. His knee gives out the second he attempts to hold his own weight. He makes due with pulling himself across the dirt on his ass towards the knife.

He’s nearly there when a blur of tan fur ambushes him from above. He screams again, knocked onto his back. 

The cat somehow misses him, claws landing in the dirt at his sides instead of his flesh, but the weight of it is enough to knock the wind from his chest. Fangs snap together a mere hairsbreadth from his face. He had just managed to bar an arm against its throat and block its attack.

He isn’t sure if he’s strong enough to stop it again, and the knife is too far away. Tears burn at the backs of his eyes, welling up and falling down the sides of his face to wet his hair.

He had always assumed that he would die in fire, shot down by an iron arrow during a mission and burned to death in the wake of his own destruction. He never once imagined he would die like this.

He feels its muscles tense and bunch as it prepares to bite again.

“Chanyah! Chanyah! Chanyah! _No!”_

The cat is tackled away from him, sent skidding across the dirt. Chanyeol is quick to sit up and scramble backwards, gasping for air, heart beating so loud and fast in his ears that he can’t hear anything else. He sees Soo’s back, his wings, how he breathes a line of fire into the ground to scare the cat away, but he cannot hear, can hardly believe it’s real.

The fire seems to scare the cat away. Soo breathes another burst, this time closer to the cat, and it goes limping off into the forest. 

Soo is at his side a moment later. He takes Chanyeol’s face in his hands and kisses him soft and slow. “Sorry,” Soo kisses him again and again, “Sorry. Sorry, Chanyah, sorry.”

The moment Soo sees Chanyeol’s leg, Chanyeol’s shirt is stripped off and tied around it as a makeshift bandage. He hefts Chanyeol into his arms without hesitation, still spewing apologies like an unending fountain. He starts back towards what Chanyeol can only assume is the river. There aren’t as many trees there; it makes flying much easier.

“I nearly died,” Chanyeol whispers when Soo stops to take a breath. He gasps softly and presses his hand to his bare belly. “ _We_ nearly died.” 

Soo’s eyes widen farther than Chanyeol thought was physically possible. Chanyeol rambles on, caught up in his own head. “I thought—I truly thought I was going to die. But you came back for me. H-How did you find me?” 

Soo doesn’t even attempt a response. Instead, he just stares down at Chanyeol’s stomach, mouth slack in surprise. When he finally manages to collect himself, guilt colors his every feature. “Sorry.” He kisses Chanyeol’s temple and squeezes him close. 

“We need to talk later. You abandoned me in a forest and I was nearly killed.” Chanyeol can still feel his hurt underneath the slowly dissipating panic. “I know I was wrong for talking even when I knew you were upset, but that does not make what you did right. You knew I had no way of returning to the cave without you and if I hadn’t had my knife I would have been completely defenseless.”

Soo nods, frowning solemn and guilty.

Chanyeol wants to say more, but he is much too tired. He settles for resting his head against Soo’s shoulder and letting his lover kiss at his brow as his tears dry up. Soo takes to the skies the moment they have access, but he stays in his human for the entire flight home so that he can continue to rumble apologies and shower Chanyeol in affection.

Once they reach the cave, Soo carries him to the nest. His leg is of utmost importance, bleeding sluggishly through the fabric of his shirt. Chanyeol sits quietly as Soo cleans and bandages his wound. It isn’t quite as deep as Chanyeol feared, and the worst of it is already starting to heal as what little magic the collar allows flows through his blood.

As he works and even once he’s finished, the other man looks to Chanyeol’s stomach as though he were possessed. His fingers twitch as if he wants to touch, but he stops, sitting on his heels and watching Chanyeol’s face, waiting.

“Later. Not now.” Chanyeol doesn’t want to think about how hurt he is right now. He simply wants to rest and try to forget about the cat and the pain and the fear. He thinks of the child growing inside him. It is _their_ child, made of _their_ love. Chanyeol thinks it’s love, at least. Upset as he is with Soo, he can’t help but want him near.

“Chanyah,” Soo says, voice lifting in question. 

Chanyeol wonders how long they’ve been sitting in silence. “Sorry. I am going to rest. You can join me, if you’d like?”

Soo is quick to climb into the nest beside him. He lies down and gently tugs Chanyeol down to rest against his chest. It should be comforting, it _is_ comforting, and it is when he relaxes that the weight of the events of the day fully comes down on him. Chanyeol sighs heavily, shakily, and then sniffles, rubbing his face against Soo’s chest when tears threaten to well up. “N-never, _never_ do that to me again, am I understood? I don’t care how helpless I am on my own with this damned collar, I _will_ leave.”

“Yes,” Soo shifts to wrap his arms around Chanyeol tight, so tight it’s a bit difficult to breathe. “Yes, Chanyah, never. Sorry. Love you, Chanyah. So sorry.”

“L-love you too.”

* * *

Chanyeol isn’t sure why it suddenly rains so intensely, weeks of bright, sunny skies and then a downpour so strong and so heavy that they had to move the nest back into a distant corner of the cave. The rain brings cold, autumn chill turned freezing. They tried to bring the fire far enough into the cave to warm them up again, but the smoke quickly became too much; Soo snuffed out the flame the moment Chanyeol began to cough.

For that reason, Chanyeol is huddled in the nest, sleepy and warm. He’s been tucked in underneath nearly all their furs. Soo is at his back, one hand rubbing at the small swell his belly. He isn’t that far along, maybe four months by Soo’s guess. Chanyeol has never seen a pregnant person before so all he has are Soo’s guesses and his own gut instincts.

Right now, his gut instincts tell him to cuddle. He rolls over onto his other side so he can curl up and press his face into Soo’s neck. Soo pulls him closer and cards his fingers through his hair. “Chanyeol,” he murmurs, pronunciation so much better after months of practice, “My Chanyeol. Comfy?”

Chanyeol nods. “Uh-huh, very much so. We’re going to need to find me warmer clothes for the winter though. And I am a bit worried about when the baby comes, this cave isn’t very warm.”

Soo hums. Chanyeol doesn’t have to look at his face to know that he’s frowning, eyebrows pulled together in thought. It is becoming easier and easier to read him now, to know what Soo is feeling, thinking, _saying_ when he makes a certain noise or a particular expression. Chanyeol is still lost more than he would like, and there are many times when Soo looks at him as though he has suddenly grown a second head, but he likes to think that they understand each other much better than before the incident with the cat. 

Chanyeol does not like to think about that day or that night, when they woke from their nap and Chanyeol screamed at Soo until his voice went hoarse and cracked. He has felt anger like that many times before, but he has never _hated_ feeling so angry before. He had always been angry at Master and the other humans and it felt right. To be so furious Soo, the man he loves, it just made him unbearably sad.

Soo apologized so many times Chanyeol could not keep count if he tried. He used words, used kisses, used touch; he kept Chanyeol close and seemed scared to let him out of reach as though he would suddenly disappear.

Mostly, Soo began to speak much, much more. 

He will never speak as Chanyeol does, and Chanyeol could never ask him to. But they came to as much of a compromise as they could with how poorly they communicated. Soo speaks more and Chanyeol spends the days Soo is really wanting to work on his carvings by the river, where he can chatter to himself without a care, and where Soo can easily find him.

“I am...bored,” Chanyeol sighs. He looks up to see Soo regarding him with a fond, exasperated expression. “I am not _always_ bored. We just haven’t done anything because of the rain. I know I need to stay warm, but it is exceedingly boring to just lie in the nest.”

Soo stares at him for a few more moments, eyes searching his face. Then, the other man smirks. Chanyeol laughs as he’s rolled onto his back, Soo settling between his thighs. He doesn’t smother Chanyeol as he used to, so careful about the baby. Chanyeol tips his head back to give Soo more room, moaning softly as lips press against his neck.

“Is this your idea of entertaining me?” 

Soo blows a hot puff of air into Chanyeol’s ear to make him squeal and squirm, “It’s fun, isn’t it?”

Chanyeol nods. “I suppose so.” He cups his lover’s cheeks and pulls him down for a kiss.

Afterwards, when they are both worn out and sated and entirely too warm, Chanyeol flattens himself out on top of Soo and begs shamelessly for kisses. “Another one. And another. Another, please? Just a few more.”

Soo’s voice is even rougher than usual, “As many as you like.” He pushes Chanyeol’s sweaty hair back from his forehead, nails grown just long enough to scratch pleasantly at his scalp, and pats his ass with his other hand. The furs are tugged up to the nape of Chanyeol’s neck. The rain continues to pour down from the sky.

The collar around Chanyeol’s neck is slick with sweat, skin below it tingling from where Soo left a collar of his own. He runs his fingers over the marks he made on Soo’s chest. 

Dragons, or at least those without one of the damned collars, are said to heal incredibly quickly. His marks are only still there because Soo allows them to be. Chanyeol grins. He squirms until he can be the one wrapped around Soo. He rests his cheek against Soo’s hair, shorn short during the summer. He yawns. “Nap, and then dinner,” he asks.

“Mhmm. Night.”

* * *

They do not wake until much later, when the rain has stopped and the early evening sunset has turned the world pink. Soo wakes first. He’s already dressed and starting to slice venison when Chanyeol finally sits up. Chanyeol rubs his eyes. When he finally opens his eyes, Soo has turned to smile at him. He blushes and smiles back. He crawls across the cold stone, one fur still wrapped around his shoulders, to sit beside his lover.

“Pretty Chanyeol,” Soo kisses his forehead, hard enough to push him back and make him laugh.

He opens his mouth to speak just as the ground shudders beneath them, a crash booming from outside the cave. 

Chanyeol is barely able to process the startle, brain still cloudy with sleep, before Soo is pulling him to his feet and shoving him towards the back of the cave. Black scales break out along Soo’s skin, nails growing and eyes burning gold. “Go. Go now. _Run._ ” 

“Wh-what? What’s going on,” Chanyeol looks back to see a shimmering silver dragon twice Soo’s size. “Soo! Soo, we need to go!” He tries to tug Soo with him, but Soo is already advancing on the other dragon. “Soo, come on!”

“Go, Chanyeol! Now!”

Instead, he grabs his knife and joins in just a few steps behind Soo. Soo snarls when he notices, but there’s nothing he can do to stop him, not when he’s so entirely focused on the silver dragon. It’s a terribly large creature; Chanyeol is much larger when he shifts, but it’s still colossal.

It’s not nearly so large when it begins to shift back, body curling inward as it shrinks smaller and smaller until it is only a man. Chanyeol and Soo pause, freezing in surprise as no one wanting to attack would make themselves _more_ vulnerable; they wait and watch. The man straightens up to his full height. He musses his own hair and strides into the cave, completely unbothered by Soo's half-shifted state and Chanyeol’s knife.

“Kyungsoo, it’s been quite a while, hasn’t it? Oh, and you’ve found a partner. I had always wondered if you would ever settle down. It is a pleasure to meet you— _Chanyeol?”_

“Luhan?” Chanyeol blinks at Luhan, who stares back at him as though Chanyeol is a ghost or a corpse. Luhan looks just as he did the last time Chanyeol saw him, sentenced to death for disobedience, though his hair is longer and his smile is free and genuine. He looks just like the man Chanyeol knew, and yet nothing like him.

The biggest difference is the absence of a collar around his neck.

Soo still keeps his body between them even as he cranes his neck to look incredulously from Chanyeol to Luhan and back again. His eyes are so wide, his eyebrows raised nearly up to his hairline. Soo turns to Luhan and grunts.

“We were both war dragons,” Luhan says. He digs a shirt and a pair of pants out from their little pile of clothes. His gaze drops down to Chanyeol’s stomach. “My master was friends with his and so we saw each other quite regularly. I actually escaped from the dungeon where he was held. I am still very sorry that I did not free you as well, Chanyeol. I was panicking, you know, scared for my life, but I never quite forgave myself for leaving you behind. I can forgive myself now though, can’t I?” Luhan grins at Chanyeol. Chanyeol attempts to smile back, but he’s too shocked and too confused to do much more than just blink at Luhan in disbelief.

“How far along are you? Three months? Four? My mate is nearly due and I am still shocked by how large his body has had to grow to carry our child. I do everything for him—as much as he will let me. It’s important to have a partner who will take care of you when you are in your ninth month.” Luhan tosses Chanyeol a shirt Soo sewed a few days before after it became apparent Soo’s shirts were getting too tight for him. “Put this on, Yeollie, Soo’s of the more primal, possessive sort and I’d like for him to relax.”

Chanyeol tugs the shirt on over his head and picks up the fur that had fallen from around his shoulders to wrap around his waist. “Y-you know Soo? How?”

“Soo? Cute, much cuter than Kyungsoo. I met him in the village after Yifan helped me escape. He lives in the cottage next to ours and was very helpful when it came to adjusting to freedom. It’s not easy, as I am sure you are well aware.” Luhan offers a sympathetic smile. He settles on the ground and gestures for Soo, who Chanyeol assumes is actually Kyungsoo, and Chanyeol to join him.

They sit. Chanyeol plays with Kyungsoo’s fingers. Kyungsoo grumbles softly. Chanyeol looks up to see his lover smiling at him before he leans in to nuzzle his nose against Chanyeol’s temple. “How did you escape that night? I saw you, I saw your collar on the dungeon floor but I didn’t understand _how.”_

Luhan grins, wide and easy and lovesick, “Yifan. He’s _excellent_ at blending in with the humans, would hang around my master’s castle and sneak down to see me, trying to find a way to get me out. He followed me to your master’s castle after the worm called for my execution and appeared in front of my cell that night. He broke me free of my collar, and we took off into the skies. To the paradise I told you about beyond the clouds.”

“It’s real? And Soo lives there too?” Kyungsoo and Luhan nod. Chanyeol hums, “Then why do you live here instead? How did you even find me that night?”

Luhan answers in Kyungsoo’s stead, confusing but appreciated. “He prefers isolation, in case you haven’t noticed. He usually spends his springs and summers here and then flies back in the fall. That is why I came, to see why he hadn’t returned yet. And I would also like to know how you two ever managed to find each other.”

Chanyeol looks to Soo, who gestures for him to speak with the hand not currently held captive by Chanyeol’s own. “Master took me to Lord Beckham’s castle. They wanted to breed me with Lord Beckham’s favorite war dragon. That night, I was left out in the courtyard to wait, and Soo just...appeared. I don’t know how he found me.”

“They were going to _breed_ you to another war dragon, as though you were common livestock,” Luhan sneers. “That is utterly disgusting. Ah, you scented him? Strange, I never found him to have a particularly strong smell, but then again I did not believe dragons _had_ individual scents until I met Yifan.”

Kyungsoo pretends to gag when Luhan sighs out his partner’s name. Luhan scowls in return, arms crossed over his chest. 

Chanyeol is left to wonder why Luhan is acting as though Kyungsoo has spoken. He watches them cycle through expressions, frowning, glowering, rolling their eyes at each other. He has the distinct feeling that he is an outsider, watching them communicate without ever being able to join in.

He still has absolutely no idea _how_ they’re speaking, but he knows they are.

When Luhan finally looks at him again, it is so the other dragon can regard him with a particularly ugly scrunched up expression. “So, why do you still have your collar on? I thought you would shed that ugly thing at the earliest opportunity.”

“If I knew how to free myself, don’t you think I would,” Chanyeol runs his fingers over the collar, feels how solid it is, smells the sick magic wafting from it. “I saw yours, broken in pieces, but I never understood how. Even when Master allowed me to shift, the collar would grow with my neck, it isn’t made of normal metal.”

Luhan nods and sucks in a breath. “That’s true, I suppose. The humans certainly did not make it easy to get those damned collars off; I thought Yifan was going to kill me when he removed mine, and that was even after he reassured me that it was not the first collar he removed. He and Minseok, Jongdae’s partner, though I’m sure you would only know the human as Lord Chen, used to sneak into castles and free war dragons. Minseok still does, and Yifan plans on returning to his work after our child comes.”

Waiting with bated breath, Chanyeol leans forward, ears straining to hear how exactly Yifan set Luhan free. But Luhan shifts uncomfortably, fidgeting in place.

“Well,” Chanyeol asks, “what is it? How do they get the collars off?”

When Luhan only grimaces, gaze darting to Kyungsoo and then to the floor, Chanyeol snaps his head towards Kyungsoo, stomach sinking to the ground. “I know,” Soo brushes Chanyeol’s hair out his face. “I have known.”

Chanyeol is so angry he forgets how to speak. He opens and closes his mouth, sputtering in fury, hot tears stinging the backs of his eyes. Betrayal is a sharp knife in his back, hitting deep and twisting until he feels nothing but agony. “You _knew?_ All this time! All this time, I have been held prisoner by this stupid thing, and you have known how to take it off?!” Kyungsoo nods once, refusing to meet Chanyeol’s eyes. Chanyeol wants to _kill_ him.

“Chanyeol, please understand,” Luhan pitches forward to put himself between them when he sees the way Chanyeol’s hands curl into fists. “Please, please understand that removing the collar is not easy, nor is it safe. It is most certainly not a choice for Kyungsoo to make on his own.”

Luhan reaches to touch Chanyeol’s collar, but he flinches away. “He has to melt the seam of the collar, the one at the back of your neck, with the hottest fire he can create. It has to be completely melted to burn off the human’s magic, then he must pull the two halves of the collar apart and out from around your neck. Until that collar is off, you aren’t immune to fire, much less molten metal. He could kill you, if not seriously hurt you, if you moved a single muscle. It is _not_ something he can do without your express permission and absolute trust.”

“Can’t hurt you, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo whispers, looking as heartbroken as Chanyeol has ever seen him. “Won’t.”

Luhan offers Chanyeol half a smile. Chanyeol doesn’t return it.

“He could have at least explained it to me, asked what I wanted.” Chanyeol cannot bring his knees to his chest now that his stomach has grown, so he settles for hiding his face in his hands. His anger is hard to hold onto, slipping through his fingers as he imagines what would have happened had Soo tried to remove his collar without any sort of explanation. Chanyeol would have startled and gotten himself killed, if not permanently injured.

Luhan snorts, “How? You two seem to speak entirely with your bodies.” Then, softer, “Do not blame him for wanting to keep you safe. The collar makes you unhappy, but any attempt to remove it without your full cooperation would have put you _and_ your child in danger.”

Chanyeol remembers how much he hates it when Luhan is right. He nods and doesn’t fight when Kyungsoo tentatively grabs him by the waist and pulls him close again. 

He is still hurting, but it’s hard to keep a frown when Kyungsoo tugs his head down to rest against his shoulder. “Love you. So much. Cannot lose you.”

“You won’t,” Chanyeol offers one of his hands to his lover and smiles as it is quickly snatched up and brought to Kyungsoo’s mouth to kiss. They will need to have a very serious talk about this, but his heart is still very much in Kyungsoo’s possession at the end of the day. “But I want the collar off. Tonight.”

Kyungsoo grimaces, gaze dropping to Chanyeol’s stomach.

Chanyeol snarls, “You will take this collar off me tonight or I will find someone who will! It is not your right to keep me prisoner! Luhan, have you ever taken a collar off before?”

Kyungsoo looks taken aback, eyes widening. His mouth drops open, stammering, sputtering. Then, his shoulders slump and he nods. “Now?”

Chanyeol thinks for a moment before shaking his head. He loves Luhan dearly, his only friend during all his years of imprisonment, but getting his collar off is a moment far too important, far too intimate, to share with him. 

Luhan does not linger much longer. He very obviously knows that Chanyeol is waiting for him to leave to ask Kyungsoo to remove the collar, and so the man only stays long enough to extract a promise that they will return to the village within a moon before making an excuse about needing to attend to Yifan. He says pregnancy has made Yifan overwhelmingly nauseous and that he doesn’t enjoy leaving his mate alone for long periods of time.

Chanyeol watches Luhan dive off the edge of the cliff outside of the cave, silver scales spreading between his shoulder blades. 

He does not pay attention long enough to see a glimmering silver dragon soaring back up into the sky, instead rounding on Kyungsoo. “Now,” he says. “Now! Take this collar off right now! I have waited nearly two decades for the moment, and I refuse to wait another second more!”

Kyungsoo jerks, blinking quickly even as he nods and pushes up onto his knees. He turns Chanyeol so that his back, and the seam of the collar, are pointed towards Kyungsoo. Chanyeol takes a deep breath as gentle fingers leave featherlight touches along the skin around the collar, fitting beneath the collar and checking the give. There isn’t much; the collar is so tight that Kyungsoo can only fit two fingers between Chanyeol’s neck and the collar before it becomes difficult to breathe.

“Do not move,” Kyungsoo kisses the shell of Chanyeol’s right ear. He breathes in and out, shaky and stilted. “Do not move. _Please._ ”

It isn’t until that moment, when Kyungsoo fits two fingers beneath Chanyeol’s collar, beneath the seam itself, his other hand going to cover the skin above it, and the back of his neck begins to feel hot, that Chanyeol truly understands how much danger he is in. If he moves, if Kyungsoo loses control for a single moment, he'll be horrifically burned from the nape of his neck onwards in every direction— _if_ he doesn’t die on impact. 

Chanyeol’s hands curl into fists atop of his thighs. His breaths, stilted as they are from the fingers pulling the collar tight around his throat, are shallow, quickly, terrified. His heart races in his chest. It pounds so strongly that Chanyeol worries it may just burst out from between his ribs.

Kyungsoo breathes out fire in one continuous burst. Chanyeol can feel the heat as it grows, ratcheting higher as Kyungsoo tries to force the metal of the collar to melt. Chanyeol wants to reach back for Kyungsoo’s other hand. He forces himself still and does his best to keep the tears at bay as his skin begins to burn.

He has to keep himself still. But it is so very hard when pain is sprawling across his shoulders and down his back. 

He knows Kyungsoo is doing whatever he can to keep his fire from reaching Chanyeol’s skin, but the sheer _heat_ of it is enough to make his skin feel scorched and stung, likely blistering up as it gets closer to the actual flame. Worse, is that the collar itself is beginning to heat up all the way around. 

Chanyeol worries for the thin, delicate skin at the front of his throat most of all.

When the pain grows unbearable, he reminds himself that it is only temporary, that once Kyungsoo is finished, he’ll be _free._ It does little to stop the pitiful little whimpers that fall from his lips. Kyungsoo hears them and Chanyeol feels a strange moment of sympathy for how badly Kyungsoo must feel for hurting him like this. Emotions meld together within him until they form one incomprehensible mass; pain clouds his mind and makes it hard to think, to remember why he is choosing to sit through this at all.

Just as Chanyeol begins to break, the pain too much, the fear of death too strong, the roar of the flame stops and he feels the collar begin to come loose. 

It is strange how dragons call themselves immune to fire. They are resistant to heat, only burning at temperatures that would rip straight through a human’s skin, but still capable of burning, collared or free. Molten metal would be hot enough to at least scorch a dragon. Chanyeol thinks so, at least.

That is why his heart lurches when Kyungsoo hisses in pain, knuckles brushing against Chanyeol’s neck as the man grips both ends of the collar and pulls them apart. “There,” Kyungsoo whispers. “There. Soon. Another moment.”

“O-okay. I trust you.” The words leave him in a rush. He realizes just how true they are. He trusts Kyungsoo more than he has ever remembered trusting anyone in his entire life. He is still in so much pain he can hardly breathe, so terrified that the smallest twitch will kill not only him but also the child growing inside of him, but he trusts Kyungsoo to keep him safe. He trusts Kyungsoo to set him free.

Blackened metal clatters to the floor.

Chanyeol doesn’t even have time to comprehend what it means before Kyungsoo is flush against his back, pulling him close and kissing every bit of him he can reach. He can feel his magic as it rushes through his body, soothing the deep burns that span his entire upper back, flooding his muscles with a frenzied sort of energy.

Mindlessly, driven by some deep, irresistible need, Chanyeol picks up his collar, now just a rounded, burnt band of metal. It had always seemed so strong, so unbreakable. He snaps it in half without a thought. And then he snaps that piece in half, and again, and again. Chanyeol lets out screaming sobs as he breaks the collar over and over again with trembling hands, unable to see through his tears but unable to stop himself long enough to wipe his eyes. He doesn’t stop until he has ground the last scraps of metal into dust with the heel of his palm. 

It’s gone. It’s done. It’s over. The humans cannot control him ever again. _No one_ can control him ever again.

Chanyeol collapses back into Kyungsoo’s chest, still sobbing. It is only then that he realizes there is a voice in his head that is not his own.

_“Oh love, I am so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. That is why I never even tried to tell you about removing the collar. I knew how, I just did not want to do it without your permission and I was so, so scared of hurting you. I am so sorry. Of course, you would have wanted it off. I was being selfish and now I have hurt you twofold. Please, I know it is much to ask, but please forgive me.”_

This is how dragons speak then, silently, with their minds. 

Chanyeol cannot even find the space within himself to process the new information; he is still reeling from the sudden realization that he is _free_. He repeats it aloud, once, twice, thrice. He tells himself that he is free and cries even harder.

Kyungsoo eventually turns him around and cups his face with both hands to pull him down and rains kisses down upon his cheeks. 

“I forgive you. I forgive you. It doesn’t even hurt now.” He hears Kyungsoo’s voice in his head, trying to get his attention, but he cannot help but gaze over Kyungsoo’s shoulder at the open, clear blue skies.

They call to him. It has been so long since he’s been able to fly, decades since he flew freely. Now, with his magic flowing through his body as easily as blood, he can feel the urge to shift tugging at every bit of him. His skin tingles, mouth going dry.

Scales begin to form along his forearms and under Kyungsoo’s hands where they sit on his cheeks. Kyungsoo laughs, a deep laugh from his belly. 

Chanyeol blushes, likely turning a similar shade of red to his scales. “I know we need to talk. But I—I _need_ to fly. It is...I haven’t flown in so long.”

 _“I know. Go, Yeollie. Show me who you really are.”_ He pulls Chanyeol’s shirt up over his head and tosses it to the side. 

Breathing heavily, Chanyeol launches to his feet and begins to run. His heart is a hammer inside his body, pulse roaring in his ears. Power, _magic_ , floods through him, crimson scales covering him in patches and smatterings. He feels the familiar ache and stretch of his wings bursting out from his back, a fire building in his chest. He doesn’t mean to, but he screams as he launches himself from the cave, energy leaving him in a rush.

He dives to the ground, wings held tight to his body. Then when he can see the leaves of each individual tree, he opens his wings wide and catches the wind.

He flies with no real purpose, circling in the air, dipping down and soaring back up high.

Chanyeol knows he is a monstrous thing, bigger than Kyungsoo, bigger than Luhan, crimson like blood. Master called him a horrendous, terrible beast. 

But Kyungsoo’s voice in his head tells him something entirely different.

 _“Look at you. Look at you!_ _You are so beautiful, Chanyeol. I have never seen a dragon, shifted or not, nearly as magnificent as you.”_

Chanyeol crows in absolute delight, feeling more free than ever before. And he flies.

* * *

Packing, Chanyeol comes to find as they prepare to leave for the land beyond the clouds, is a tedious process. Kyungsoo has everything just so, each item has its exact crate and each crate goes with its set to be wrapped up in a particular canvas for ease of carrying during flight. Nearly everything Chanyeol puts away has to be unpacked and put away again in its rightful crate by Kyungsoo. The things he does manage to put away correctly turn out to be items they still need that can only be packed just as they are about to leave.

In short, Chanyeol hates packing and leaves most of it to Kyungsoo. 

It doesn’t seem that his lover minds all that much. He seems perfectly content for Chanyeol to sit in their nest and whittle away at the leftover wood scraps they don’t plan on bringing with them. Chanyeol thinks it has something to do with how his stomach is growing, swell uncomfortably noticeable now with winter quickly approaching.

For all his excitement at becoming pregnant, actually _being_ pregnant is much less fun. He looks down at himself and feels disgust, fat building up around his hips and thighs. Kyungsoo tells him constantly that he is beautiful, radiant, the most attractive man Kyungsoo has ever had the honor of seeing. Chanyeol doesn’t _feel_ beautiful though. Most days, Chanyeol feels hideous, so uncomfortable in his own skin.

Even worse are the mood swings. Kyungsoo says that they are common and nothing to worry about. But Chanyeol is so horribly sensitive that he is constantly caught between laughter and tears and he cannot _stand_ it. He hates how he is unable to stop himself from snapping at an innocent question for absolutely no reason or bursting into sobs because Kyungsoo has not smiled at him yet that day.

He doesn’t understand how Kyungsoo is able to put up with him as patiently as he does.

Chanyeol throws fit after fit, as though he were a small child. And yet, Kyungsoo kisses his forehead and tells him how loved he is, how beautiful he looks carrying their child, how happy he makes Kyungsoo every single day. 

Now, after he has cried himself hoarse because Kyungsoo put his favorite fur underneath a few others in the nest, the other man simply leans down and kisses him as they huddle around the fire. Chanyeol is lying down with his head pillowed in Kyungsoo’s lap, eyes red and itchy, nose sniffling. Kyungsoo is rubbing at Chanyeol’s belly with one hand and scratching his scalp with the other. Chanyeol stretches out as though he were some great, big cat.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have acted as I did. I’m trying to control myself, truly! It’s—I just feel so upset over the stupidest of things now.”

_“You are carrying our child. You have earned the right to be a bit tearful. From now on, though? I would appreciate it if you talked to me instead of getting so upset. I would have happily fetched your fur for you.”_

Chanyeol nods. “I will. I’ll try, I promise.” He rolls over to rub his face into Kyungsoo’s stomach. Kyungsoo laughs, thumb caressing the shell of his ear. He tugs gently at a lock of Chanyeol’s hair, twirls it around his finger over and over. Chanyeol would reach up and do the same if not for the fact that Kyungsoo shaved his head again the night before. 

As it is, Chanyeol rubs his palm over Kyungsoo’s head and purrs at the prickly texture. 

“It feels nice,” he giggles when Kyungsoo lets out a curious sound. He catches Chanyeol’s wrist to pull his hand down and press a kiss to his palm. Then, he intertwines their fingers and rests their joined hands on Chanyeol’s side. They stay that way, still and comfortable in the quiet of the cave night, only broken by the fire crackling beside them. Chanyeol is so comfortable that he starts to slip into a doze. 

He opens his eyes at the sound of Kyungsoo’s sigh, moonlight just bright enough for Chanyeol to see his eyes, heavy and somber. “What,” he asks. He still hasn’t quite figured out how to speak as Kyungsoo does, though he hears him loud and clear. 

It’s funny to him how their positions have reversed in that respect even if it is endlessly irritating. Kyungsoo is much more patient than he is; he spends a little bit of time every night trying to reteach Chanyeol how to speak like a dragon and never once gets upset when Chanyeol fails.

 _“We have never talked much about your life as a war dragon.”_ Kyungsoo hurries to soothe him when he stiffens, swallowing against the waves and flashes of memories he has been trying so hard to forget. _“You don’t have to tell me, my love! Please, don’t upset yourself! I was only wondering because you have told me so much about every other aspect of your life, but never that.”_

Chanyeol keeps his gaze focused on Kyungsoo’s stomach. He squeezes Kyungsoo’s hand and tries to keep his breaths even and steady even as his chest is suddenly covered in an insurmountable weight. “It has never come up, you know,” he starts, attempting to pass the entire conversation off as a joke, “We were not very good at communicating with each other until late. We could barely hold a simple conversation, much less speak about...about the war.”

Kyungsoo hums softly. He squeezes Chanyeol’s hand in return and begins petting his hair again. _“That is true. But I want you to know that I am_ always _here to listen to you. I do not care what it is I’m doing at the moment, if you need me, you will have me.”_

Tears well up and Chanyeol blames the baby for the sudden rush of emotions. His heart feels almost as though it’s swelling in his chest, stomach fluttering not unlike the wings of a butterfly. 

He doesn’t understand how he is able to have this life, what he has done to deserve a mate like Kyungsoo. 

So much of his life was spent in a dank, damp little dungeon cage and he knows Kyungsoo sees how that isolation has affected him, has left its scars along his mind. He still has days where he hungers for touch more than food. He is so needy, so dependent on Kyungsoo even though he has full control of himself again. Chanyeol knows he’s annoying and frustrating and not always the best company.

But Kyungsoo still crawls into the nest with him each night, kisses him as though he’s the only person in the world to ever matter. He opens his arms when the yawning hunger under Chanyeol’s skin opens wide and tells him that he is loved with every moon and sun. Chanyeol is still understanding what it really means to love another, but he knows that he loves Kyungsoo and he knows that that love grows like a wildfire with every passing morning.

If he cannot tell Kyungsoo about his life as a war dragon, then who?

“What do you want to know?”

 _“How did they capture you? I know that you must have been very young as it is nearly impossible to capture a fully grown dragon. But I thought the rest of our people returned to the villages before we were born so that the humans_ couldn’t _take any more of our children.”_

Chanyeol shrugs, chewing on his bottom lip. “Truthfully, I don’t remember much of being captured. I remember flying away, as if I was being chased, and knowing that I needed to fly faster if I wanted to escape. And then I awoke in Mas- in the dungeon of the human who took me. I was old enough to cry for my parents, but not old enough to remember much about them except for bits and flashes.”

 _“Oh, Yeollie.”_ Kyungsoo leans down to kiss his brow. _“How old do you suppose you were? Five summers? Six?”_

Another shrug, and Chanyeol takes his lover’s hand in his own, playing with his fingers. “Perhaps. I think my sister was just a few years older than me, and my memories of her are very young as well.”

_“You have a sister? You never told me that.”_

There is a flash of a little girl with brown hair cut short to her chin, chasing him around a field and calling for him to come and play. When she catches him, she tries to make him eat a fat worm she dug up from the ground; Mother comes just in time to save him.

“Yes, Yoora. Her name was Yoora. She liked to torture me,” Chanyeol laughs. “She liked to torture me, but she threw a rock at the head of a boy who pushed me down a hill.” He startles when Kyungsoo goes to wipe at a tear as it rolls down Chanyeol’s cheek. He wonders when he started crying again.

_“We don’t have to continue speaking about this if you do not wish to. You have already told me plenty.”_

“I’ve barely told you anything about life as a war dragon. There were years spent training, and then the missions I was sent to complete, and then what the humans had planned for me the night you found me and—”

Kyungsoo hushes him with a finger to his lips, smiling softly down from above. There is a deep sadness in Kyungsoo’s eyes. Chanyeol believes it’s for him. _“You have told me enough, at least for tonight. I will always be here to listen to whatever you wish to tell me, but I can see it in your eyes that you have had enough. And I know what happened the night I found you. I know I am thankful to have been able to steal you away before the humans had a chance to hurt you so deeply that I am truly not sure if you would have ever recovered._

 _“I know that I will be forever grateful to be allowed the honor of being your first, even more so because you_ wanted _me just as I wanted you.”_

“Only,” Chanyeol squeezes Kyungsoo’s hand. “You will be my only.”

A sharp intake of air and then Kyungsoo is kissing him quiet. _“You cannot say that to me, my love. It makes me want to take you to the nest and keep you there until winter comes.”_

Chanyeol begins to lever himself up, grunting in appreciation when Kyungsoo fits a hand under his back and lifts. Sitting up has gotten tremendously difficult as his pregnancy continues and his stomach grows, pulling himself to stand even more. It won’t be long until he needs Kyungsoo to help him out of the nest in the morning. As it is, he can barely stand up on his own _now._

“I would not be opposed to that.” He cups Kyungsoo’s face and then smooths his free hand down Kyungsoo’s chest. Chanyeol giggles as Kyungsoo’s eyes darken. His muscles tense as though he’s going to heft Chanyeol into his arms and make good on his word. “But are you certain that you don’t want to ask me any other questions? I can answer them, I promise.”

 _“I am certain. I have heard more than enough to know that I can wait to learn more until you_ choose _to speak about war dragons. Though I do have a few other questions.”_

“Yes,” Chanyeol asks. Kyungsoo grins and leans in to kiss his cheek, the tip of his nose.

 _“How is it that you become more and more beautiful with each passing day? What am I to do, hm? How have I earned the privilege to be the one you love?”_ Kyungsoo does not lift Chanyeol, instead helping him to his feet and gently guiding him towards the nest with hands on his hips. _“And, most importantly, may I have you now?”_

Chanyeol nods. He goes down into the nest with a good deal less grace than he would like, first onto his hands and knees before settling on his side so Kyungsoo can lie behind him. His cheeks burn in embarrassment as he tugs his pants down over the curve of his ass and feels the cold air hit the slick oil between his cheeks. “I should still be wet enough. I-I felt a bit lonely while you were out on your walk earlier, so I took care of myself.”

Only having just dropped onto his knees in the nest, Kyungsoo lets out a wheezing breath. He shakes his head as though to clear it, and then lies down behind Chanyeol and pulls him close. _“Next time, I wish to be there as you take care of yourself. But until then, let me take care of you.”_

Chanyeol moans softly, nodding at the soft hum of pleasure under his skin.

* * *

The flight to the village was long, so much longer than Chanyeol would have ever anticipated. 

Kyungsoo said before they left that the trip tended to take a full day for him, sunrise to long past sunset. He blamed it on having to carry all the supplies by himself and said that it would likely take much less time with Chanyeol there to take half the load. Kyungsoo had been so excited the morning they left the cave, a constant stream of chatter in Chanyeol’s head as they took flight, heading east. 

If Chanyeol wasn’t nearly six months pregnant, he thinks Kyungsoo would have been right about a shorter trip. As it was, Chanyeol simply couldn’t fly for more than half the day before he had to rest. The trip took three days and two nights. 

He felt absolutely horrible, a burden on Kyungsoo’s shoulders, whenever he would have to land and lengthen their trip by however many hours of rest it took for him to feel ready to fly again. Kyungsoo never seemed to care. He would rub Chanyeol’s back and tell him to take as much time as he needed.

Still, he pushed himself the last day as they neared the cloud barrier separating the land of the dragons from the world the humans had stolen from them. And it was just as beautiful as Chanyeol had dreamed of. They passed over multiple villages, all settled and secure within the landscape, a paradise just as Luhan had described. Dragons flew freely, dancing through air and soaring up high to meet them. 

For all Kyungsoo professes to love isolation, he was welcomed by more people than Chanyeol could fathom, all excited and delighted that he had finally returned. When Kyungsoo introduced him as his mate, the others welcomed him with just as much enthusiasm, assuring him that if Kyungsoo loved him, he was surely a wonderful person as well.

Kyungsoo was invited to spend the night and catch up with so many dragons. Chanyeol thinks that if it weren’t for him, Kyungsoo would not have made it to the cottage for several days. 

Fortunately, Kyungsoo took pity on his progressively lagging pace and guided him directly towards their new home. He was also kind enough to keep his laughter to himself when Chanyeol shifted into human form and immediately crawled inside the crate holding all of their furs and fell asleep.

Now, half a moon later, Chanyeol putters around the cottage, nibbling on a slice of bread. He is constantly nibbling on something now, stomach growling with hunger the moment he wakes and refusing to stop until he finally falls asleep at night. Not as though he can fall asleep easily anymore. His belly has grown so heavy and cumbersome that he can only sleep in very certain positions, and the slightest deviance from those positions will have him waking up in the middle of the night—if the baby’s kicking does not wake him up first.

“Chanyeol,” a knock sounds at the door. He already knows it’s Yifan with a new plate of sweets. He brings a plate over every few days, always something new, always something delicious. Most of the treats Yifan brings him are recipes passed down through their people. No family’s recipe is quite the same, and Chanyeol will occasionally eat something that tastes startlingly familiar but just a bit off. Yifan makes them, ostensibly so that Chanyeol can begin to make up for years of deprivation. 

Truthfully, Yifan is using him as an excuse to give into his cravings.

Chanyeol doesn’t mind. He often craves sweets as well. The only issue is that he cannot allow himself to touch them until Kyungsoo gets home so that he can make sure his lover is able to eat one before he devours them all. 

Chanyeol opens the door with a tentative smile. “Hello, good afternoon, Yifan.” 

“Hello, Yeollie. Are you feeling any better today? Think you’ll go with Kyungsoo to the market tomorrow to look for new plants?” Yifan is standing with a plate of what looks to be cookies in one hand, the other resting on his stomach. His face screws up in discomfort as he rubs at a spot high on the swell of his belly, likely a little foot stuck somewhere it shouldn’t be. He’s scarcely days away from giving birth but becomes very angry when it is pointed out to him that it may be beneficial for him to rest.

Chanyeol shrugs, swallowing anxiously, fingers tightening on the door handle, “I-I’m not sure. I don’t think so. Perhaps the next time.” 

Yifan sighs. Chanyeol chews on the inside of his cheek. Chanyeol has become painfully shy since settling in the cottage. He is so, so terrified of going out to the market or the taverns in the heart of the village in case another dragon sees him and _knows_ that he is different. 

Luhan told him how he was treated as though he were made of glass once the others realized he was a war dragon, an undercurrent of pity in every conversation. Chanyeol isn’t sure he can handle that. He just wants to be _normal,_ and so he hides in the cottage until he feels that he can pass as one of them, until the band of pale skin around his neck finally darkens to match the rest of him.

Kyungsoo, Yifan, and Luhan hate it. They each try to draw him out of the cottage in their own ways. Luhan has apologized profusely for putting those thoughts in his head and promised to only take him to meet people who would never treat him differently. Yifan regards him with equal parts sympathy and frustration, encouraging him to go to the market and learn to be normal so that he isn’t different any longer.

Kyungsoo just asks him every single day if he would like to join him on a flight. And every single day they fly a little bit farther away, a little bit higher in the sky where the rest of the dragons play. They flew all the way to Minseok and Jongdae’s home a few days earlier. 

They treated him just as they treated Kyungsoo. Chanyeol has an open invitation to visit whenever he pleases, as Jongdae is often always home tending to their garden. He hasn’t visited yet, but he plans to.

“How is Taozi?” Chanyeol takes the plate of cookies and nods to Yifan’s belly. 

Yifan smiles, “Very well. He is ready to come out, that is certain. And your Baekhyunnie?”

Chanyeol grins and rubs at his own belly. He and Kyungsoo decided on a name for their baby not long after arriving in the village. He is carrying their little Baekhyun—Kyungsoo says Baekhee would be a lovely name for a girl, but Chanyeol simply knows the baby inside him is a boy. 

“Active. He woke me up before sunrise with all his moving. Kyungsoo can feel his kicks now. You should have seen his face that first time,” Chanyeol laughs at the memory. 

Kyungsoo had just gone to press a kiss to the swell of Chanyeol’s stomach when Baekhyun decided to greet his other father. Kyungsoo’s eyes were so wide, as large and round as the moon. He screamed in surprise and immediately began to ask if that was their little Baekhyun’s doing. Before Chanyeol could even answer, he was pressing his ear to Chanyeol’s middle and grunting for Baekhyun to do it again.

It made Chanyeol love him even more, something he hadn’t thought possible until that moment.

Yifan passes him the plate of cookies. “I am happy that he has you,” the other man says off-handedly. “He was so...stoic when he left last spring. He was still a good friend and a good person, but there seemed to be very little joy within him. Now, Luhan and I have watched him return home from the market or wherever he had to go for the day and he simply lights up when he sees you waiting for him in your little garden. He smiles much more, always happy to chat, particularly if it’s to chat about you or Baekhyunnie. You are good for him.”

Chanyeol’s heart stutters in his chest, warmth unfurling in his chest and reaching down to the very tips of his fingers. He knows his face is turning pink in pleased embarrassment; he cannot stop the wide, dopey smile that spreads across his lips. “He is good for me as well. I can’t remember ever being so happy. Kyungsoo is more than I ever thought I would get to have.”

“Well, then I am overjoyed that you two have each other.” Yifan smiles. He looks up towards the sky before rolling his eyes. “I best be going now. I think I can see Luhan coming back from his visit to Junmyeon’s and he’ll be very upset if he returns and I’m not resting. Once Kyungsoo returns, tell him that you are both invited for dinner tonight.”

“I will. Goodbye, Yifan!”

Chanyeol watches Yifan waddle across the stretch of grass that separates their homes. Yifan built his cottage next to Kyungsoo’s simply to irritate him, but it’s actually quite nice. They still have their peace and quiet without absolute seclusion.

Once Yifan is safely back inside his own home, Chanyeol himself waddles to the kitchen to put away the cookies before the incessant hunger in his stomach has him devouring the whole plate. He passes by his little collection of three plants along the way and brushes his fingers against the soft, smooth leaves of his favorite plant; it was Kyungsoo’s plant, left with Yifan every spring and summer and returned in the fall for Kyungsoo to fret over to keep himself busy.

But it became Chanyeol’s this year, the beginning of his new hoard. Every time the large market convenes, merchants from other villages traveling to sell their wares to new customers, Kyungsoo stops by the plant seller and trades some of the wooden utensils he carves for a new plant. A large market is convening tomorrow. Chanyeol asked for a small, compact plant that can handle less sunlight, something he could place in their room and look at when he’s too tired to get out of the nest in the morning.

Thinking of the nest makes him long for a nap. He considers letting himself doze for a bit, but decides to settle at the kitchen table with a block of wood instead. He isn’t sure when Kyungsoo is coming home and so he would hate to have to get out of the nest on his own. It is much too much work. 

And he loves it when Kyungsoo picks him up and sets him on his feet. It makes him feel precious.

Chanyeol scores random lines in the wood. He is still getting accustomed to using his own talons instead of the knife Kyungsoo gave him. Being able to shift and use his magic whenever he chooses is still a new concept. He will run around the entire cottage looking for a match or a flint only for Kyungsoo to remind him that he can _breathe_ fire. 

He enjoys it though, he enjoys it very much. 

He is free to come and go as he pleases. Aside from the welcome limitations imposed upon him by his pregnancy, he is free to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants.

Chanyeol hums to himself, and to Baekhyun who hears his every sound, and begins to create something that he hopes resembles the ocean and its waves. Kyungsoo has promised to take him to see the ocean before Baekhyun comes. He promised to bring a bucket or two so that Chanyeol can collect as many seashells as his heart desires for his hoard. Chanyeol still isn’t quite sure what seashell is, but he knows they must be pretty if Kyungsoo thinks he’ll want so many.

Kyungsoo has promised to take him anywhere he wishes to go. Or, if Chanyeol prefers, he has promised to care for Baekhyun on his own and let Chanyeol explore the way he was never allowed to, freedom of the highest degree.

Chanyeol smiles and shakes his head at the thought. As if he would ever leave his family now that he finally has one. If he is going to explore, he is going to do it with Kyungsoo and their little boy at his side.

The front door opens just as Chanyeol has decided he is tired of carving and is in the process of choosing his next snack. “Kyungsoo,” he calls, going to push himself up from the table.

He does not have the chance to stand before Kyungsoo rounds the corner, tears in his eyes. He steps between Chanyeol’s spread legs and cups his cheeks, smiling even as he cries. _“My love. Oh, Chanyeol.”_

“Kyungsoo? Are you alright?” Worry begins to creep into Chanyeol’s chest, “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” 

He makes to stand again, but Kyungsoo gently pushes him to sit. Baekhyun begins to kick furiously, aware that something isn’t right, likely feeling Chanyeol’s own stress. Kyungsoo says nothing for a single heartbeat that seems to stretch on indefinitely. Then, he leans down and kisses Chanyeol’s forehead. 

_“You are coming with me to the market tomorrow. You must.”_

“Wh-what? Why? I-I’m not ready, Kyungsoo, I can’t!”

Kyungsoo just smiles, tears running down his cheeks as he smooths his thumbs over Chanyeol’s own. _“You must, my love. You simply must. There is no choice.”_

Chanyeol swallows nervously. He leans into Kyungsoo’s touch and reaches to grab at the soft fabric of his lover’s shirt for comfort. “Why,” he asks, voice quiet and uncomfortably meek, “Why must I?”

 _“Because.”_ Kyungsoo stops and closes his eyes. He lets out a shuddering breath. When he opens his eyes, he looks at Chanyeol as though nothing else in the world matters, so much love and adoration that Chanyeol is rendered speechless. _“Because there is an apothecary that has just reopened. It is run by a woman named Yoora and her mother and father. And they would all very much like to meet you.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, please leave a kudos and a comment! You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/killmeDO) and [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/killmeDO) Sometimes I talk about what I'm working on next and post snippets! I'd love to hear from you


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